


Rocket Meets His Match

by KallenTheNightSwan



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, Experimentation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Genetically Engineered Beings, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Rocket Raccoon-centric, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:53:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 44,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6670783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KallenTheNightSwan/pseuds/KallenTheNightSwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months pass and the Guardians have stuck together; but one's getting a bit testy (well, more-so than usual). Swearing there is nothing going on, him and the gang run into a very unique fighter and unearth some rather macabre secrets, propelling them into an adventure they realize they may not be ready for. (Adventure, Humor and Romance) Rocket/OC, some StarLord/Gamora - slight AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Conflict

**Author's Note:**

> I heard that someone was taking my story and posting it as their own on multiple different sites. I was also told that it was taken down on here, so... in hopes it won't happen again, I am posting all of my stories from FanFiction.Net on here.
> 
> Anyways, this is a fan favorite on my account on FF.NET, so I hope you all will enjoy it on here as well.
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> Kallen

It was just another day aboard the Milano for the galactic guardians. Peter and Gamora were listening to The Jackson 5, and piloting the ship while Groot swayed along to the music behind them - coming close to falling out of his pot a few times.

At the other end of the ship were Drax and Rocket:

Fighting again.

Being a family of "former" convicts, the men on the ship (more precisely these two) often communicated very... loudly. So it was difficult to discern when casual banter would turn into a fist-vs-gun fight.

An angry roar erupted throughout the ship, alerting the others. There had been no "prelude" to this enraged shout. The hull had been silent - save for the usual background music humming from the speakers. So this time, the interruption took them completely by surprise.

Quill immediately bounded out of his seat (nearly tripping over Groot) and stumbled down the hall.

________________________________________

Drax reeled back in uncharacteristic surprise after he let go of Rocket's scruff.

"What is the reason for - "

"What the hell do you think I am?! I'm not some fucking rag-doll! You overgrown piece of - "

"You were in my spot. You would not move upon request..."

A loud bang echoes through the room as Quill suddenly tumbles through the door.

Righting his self, Quill launches into his usual conflict-resolution speech before things got out-of-hand - as usual.

"Okay guys... play nice. No need to decorate the ship with bullets and blood..."

Drax chanced a glance at their captain, though Rocket seemed oblivious to his existence. Deft and blind from his rage, Rocket just continues to growl menacingly and in that brief moment, he somehow whipped out a rather large... missile launcher?

Rocket heaves the launcher onto his shoulder, shouting, "Maybe I'll blow off those bulky-ass legs of yours, and we'll see - "

Drax snorted, "Yes. Just like I will rip out your frail spine - "

"FRAIL?!" Rocket cries indignantly. "Who the FUCK do you think you are?! Calling me frail?! ME?!" Rocket then began to... load the launcher...

Crap. Peter thought. Shit just got real.

"Woah, woah, woah! What the hell happened?! You guys are pals, buddies, friends!" Peter pleads frantically, looking between his two teammates. He was shocked. How can he possibly get these two to chill out before his crazy raccoon friend blows a hole though Drax and his ship, sucking them all out into oblivion? He wasn't prepared for this.

Even Gamora was alarmed; something was clearly wrong with their friend. None of them have ever seen Rocket this stark-raving mad; at least not since that night at the bar on Knowhere, shortly after they first met.

Now acknowledging their existence, Rocket gestures towards Drax with the chunk of metal on his shoulder, "I won't work with a bumbling dick-hole who tosses me around like a fucking TOY!" He roars with rage. His breathing heavily labored and beady, brown eyes narrowed to slits with his ears plastered against his furry skull.

This level of fury shocked the team into silence. Drax even looked remorseful, and Gamora - who had stealthily appeared shortly after Quill - was worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

This was not the snarky, grumpy raccoon that they knew. Sure, he was a bit of an asshole most of the time; but never did he loose his cool this completely.

Drax, more alarmed at his small friend's behavior than the disproportionate weapon on his shoulders angled at his chest, took a cautious step towards the raccoon: "I was only moving - "

"Don't you fucking dare come near me!" Rocket growled while jerking out of reach, clicking the launcher on. Peter panicked at the sound of the weapon warming up.

Okay... NOW shit was real.

"ROCKET! Calm DOWN!"

"I am NOT your FUCKING PET!" Rocket let out a battle cry, preparing to fire before Gamora cuts it short by knocking him out.

Their furry friend crumples to the floor of the ship as everyone held their breath in shocked silence. Still worked up over the ordeal, however, Peter spun towards the dumb-struck destroyer.

"What the HELL happened here?!"

Gamora suddenly appeared in the Destroyer's face with a knife to his throat.

"You. Explain this to us. Right now." The ex-assasin demanded in a clipped tone.

Still looking shell-shocked, Drax looks over her shoulder at Quill with his glass-blue eyes and hesitates before responding, "I was telling the rodent to get out of my spot..."

Gamora presses the blade to his throat gently to get Drax's attention on her. When he meets her glare he continues.

"So I moved him myself."

The others groan loudly in exasperation. Gamora drops the knife from Drax's throat and rolls her eyes while Peter collapsed dramatically onto a metal box, his head in his hands, muttering to himself.

"WHY?! Why would you even DO that?! You KNOW how Rocket is about shit like that!"

"Shit like...?"

"For crying out - DON'T treat him like he's an animal, you daft idiot!" Gamora shouts before releasing a defeated sigh and sheathing her weapon.

The Destroyer glances over at Rocket's slumped form as Peter pulls their smallest friend into his arms and walks towards the raccoon's quarters. He looks on, a bit dismayed at the situation.

Gamora sighed as she noticed this and lays a hand on his shoulder for comfort. "I am thinking that Rocket is angered by more than just your action. But it would be good for us all if you apologized the next time you speak to him. I know you didn't mean to insult him, but attempt to see things from his perspective." She releases the grip on his bulky shoulder before heading back to the cockpit - leaving the tattooed man with his thoughts.

"His pride is greater than all of ours." she called over her thin shoulder before reaching the doors that closed behind her.

Seconds later, Peter re-enters the room, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks over at Drax and sighs. "Dude. I think we both need a drink."

Drax nodded solemnly, "Agreed."

___________________________________________________________________

In the darkness of the night, a loud crunch could be heard as blood began to pour out and sink into the soil. With a grunt, the serrated steel staff was jerked out of the Kree's skull and tossed carelessly to the ground beside it.

The large shadow turns away from the corpse and towards the glittering lights in the distance.

"Not here."

Out of the blackest shadows strides an Acturan, and with a deep inhale of the sulfuric atmosphere, it begins shifting and contorting gruesomely. The sounds of bones shifting and cracking, flesh ripping as it begins an outline of something new. A gurgling noise, not unlike a drowning creature, joins the cacophony as organs writhe and slide into place.

There is stillness in the evening air until the skin turns blue and its new eyes open.

A sigh.

Shoulders roll, and a soft popping can be heard as he flexes his new form.

A simulacrum of the dead remains at his feet.

This Kree counterfeit casts an indifferent glance at the bloody, mangled corpse he starts to leave behind him.

"Maybe elsewhere."


	2. Chapter 2

"Son-of-a BITCH!" Rocket kicks the engine piece he's been working on, growling when the stupid hunk of metal doesn't so much as roll over. He draws in a shaky breath, as tears began to prick his large, brown eyes.

He paces in his small quarters for a moment before growling again and dropping to the floor to lean up against the wall.

Laying his head back against the wall, he sighs. A defeated look appears on his fury face.

"What the hell is _wrong_ with me?"

"We were wondering the same thing."

Startled, Rocket jerks his head towards Peter, who was standing in the doorway.

Funny. He didn't remember hearing the door open.

To save face, Rocket tries to muster up an act.

"Look Star-Dork," he softly growls "I will go apologize to the bastard…"

Peter rose in eyebrows in surprise.

Quickly realizing this was _not_ what he should say, he quickly adds, "Only if you all have a nice hard _chat_ with the asshole about treating me like some snotty child's stuffed bunny."

The glare Rocket shoots at Peter is piercing. Whatever it is that is bothering his friend, it's big.

And they need to take care of this. Now.

"Look, Rocket… " He realizes he's staring down his nose at his friend and looks towards the bed.

He looks back at Rocket and gestures over to the bed "… may I sit?"

Rocket growls weakly before he deflates, heaving a sigh.

He nods his head.

Quill eases himself onto Rocket's makeshift bed. He makes sure that Rocket is looking him in the eye before speaking.

"Look. What Drax did was wrong. Gamora and I have given him shit about it already – "

Rocket looks down at the ground and clenches his fists, "But – "

Peter is thrown off of his train of thought. He blinks a few times, wondering what Rocket was on about. "What?"

" _But._ Ya were going to say 'he was wrong, _but_ -'" He spits the word out like it's poison, growling as the frustration and tension was rekindling within his small body.

" _But..."_

He continues, mocking his friend "that was no reason to go, as you would say, 'bat-shit crazy' on everyone." Seeing Peter looking at him with concern and worry in his eyes…

Rocket softens his eyes and his muscles relax and he looks at his paws, palms up in his lap.

Truthfully, he was exhausted. He'd been caring around this frustration and anger for too long – it wasn't worth it anymore. He didn't have it in him after today's spectacle.

It's quiet in the room as Peter shifts himself over to the ground to sit by his friend.

"Rocket… what's going on? We aren't mad… we are all just concerned."

Rocket looks up at him.

Peter sighs and continues, "Look it's true! I mean… you scared the shit outta me dude! I mean, you are always a dick and a hot-head… but I've never seen you that hyped up before. Drax does stupid shit all the time, you can't really hold it against the guy!"

Rocket just looks determinedly away from him and at the wall ahead.

Desperate to get somewhere with the damn raccoon, Peter raises his voice, "Shit, dude… even _Gamora_ was concerned, and she's a freaking _stone wall!_ "

He sighs when he gets no reaction. "Rocket. Something is bothering you, and I know it's bigger than your usual fear – "

Peter pauses to get his furry friend to look up at him. Rocket, hesitated. Not sure whether he should be defensive or just let his friend talk.

He opted for the latter.

"Your fear that we see you as _less_ then an intelligent guy, as less than a friend." He watches his friend shift uncomfortably and quickly continues, "That you aren't seen as an equal to everyone else because you are different."

Peter started to get angry now, "How many times do we have to prove ourselves to you?!"

Rocket stares at his companion with wide eyes mouth slightly slack in shock at _Peter's_ uncharacteristic frustration towards him.

"You are our friend, and a mother-fucking crazy-ass genius who's saved our asses more times than we can count!"

Peter lowers his voice, dropping to his knees beside Rocket and rests his hand on his friend's furry little shoulder. "We do not see you as anything less than that. I promise" he continues softly.

There's a long silence until Rocket chuckles and mumbles, "Save the sugar and rainbows for yer women – Star Dork."

Peter grins.

* * *

Hurried footsteps and heavy panting echoes along the walls of the concrete tunnel as they approach a dim light ahead.

A raucous laughter could be heard once his destination came into sight. A loud cheer and the clink of bottles was the last sound before the door flies open with a loud –

_BANG!_

There was an abrupt silence, only the heavy panting from the runner filling the crowded, smelly room. All members in uniforms and casuals looked towards the door in shock, some eyeing the nearest weapon to them.

Catching his breath, the runner began, "Berk," another deep inhale, "from the Kander Group wants to rent one of your men – Jack." The boy's eyes met the sullen, hardened ones of the large Xandarian in the center of the room whose face fell into a grimace at the summons.

"I take it the slime-ball wants some re-con work done, yea?" Jack grumbled at the runner.

The boy slowly nodded his head, "I could only assume so, m-mister Jack."

"Fine. We could use the extra credits anyways," he pauses to look around the room at his band, "but this upcoming job will require more bodies, we'll need something to pay them with… if they survive." He chuckles darkly.

There were grumbles and sighs of agreement. None of them were too fond of re-con and stealth missions.

They'd rather blow shit up.

"Alright kid." Jack clapped his filthy, ringed hands together, "Zeenari will accompany you back to Berk's." He turns back to look at the female assassin, meeting her eyes, "Be sure to wrap this assignment up quickly, we need you back here ASAP – "

Eyes widen in panic, "Oh no, no, no! S-s-sir… he wishes for the skills of-of _The A-Archer_. M-master Berk said he need's his archery skills for this particular assignment, he's offering three times your usual f-fee…"

Jack raises his thick brows in surprise.

A lithe female Zenn-Whoberi stands, her armor clanging as she does so. "Sir. If this man is willing to open is cache – "

"Then this must be _very_ important to him." Jack finishes, rubbing at his scraggily goatee.

"He wants the animal for this job." Jack waves his hand, dismissing the mater.

"It's just sitting in the corner sucking up the water. No reason to _not_ have it earn a little money on the side for us while we work on our next score." A nasally voiced Zandorian jerks an oil-covered thumb over his shoulder towards a dark corner of the musty room.

The kid tuned out the ruffians' chatter and turned his attention to the far corner of the room. A faint clanging sound, like that of rustling chains, could be heard; then there was an appearance of (what looked like) a furry, copper-red tail… slapping the dirty concrete in an agitated rhythm.

The color and the softness of the tail intrigued the runner as he shuffled where he stood by the door. Chancing a glance at the merc band, then looking back to the thumping tail in the corner, he sighed.

He shook the desire out of his head to approach the thing, remembering that he cannot over-step his boundaries with these types. Also, there was no telling what this beast-thing would do to him. There was not going to be a repeat of last time…

The boy shivers. His wrist is still mangled from the fiasco.

"Alright!" a voice boomed, effectively silencing the room. The leader, Jack, strode over to the boy.

"You," Jack roughly shoved a finger at his chest, causing him to stubble backwards into the doorframe.

"You are going to tell your boss that he can borrow our pet for no longer than five days, understood?"

The runner sighed with relief. He couldn't come back to his master empty-handed.

Jack smirked down at the boy, "But… I will not be going with you. You will take it on your own. Chuey, get the remote." With that he walked away from the shell-shocked kid.

Panic seized the boy's breath. Lip trembling for a moment, and before he could respond, the other approached him.

"He mentioned you had _the_ archer in your employ…" he hesitated.

The man sneered down at the child and behind him Jack and the others chuckled.

"Yes. We do. And it's over there in the corner." The nasally sounding man answered the nervous kid.

Confused and a little frightened, he pressed on, "But m-master requires the arch-"

"And that's exactly what you are getting. The little freak over there in the corner, there's only one of them you know?"

"One of a fucking kind," chimed in another.

The female Zenn strode in front of the other men and regarded the runner coolly, "It would be an inconvenience to lose our pet."

At the mention of the word 'pet', the boy chanced another glance at the far corner. The tail had returned to the shadows. Looking back up at the woman, he questioned, "Pet? The archer is-"

"An animal, vermin, creature, freak-of-nature? Yes. But it's not as dumb as it looks." A few of the men in the room sniggered at the women's comment.

The kid's eyes widen in amazement and she chuckles.

There's a brief silence throughout the room before Jack reappears with a remote-like device and a thick, metal-laden leash. "Get its things. It leaves with the boy." Jack looked towards one of his bumbling men who nodded vigorously and trotted off.

"That'll be 2 million credits, kid. Zaeed and Che'Sur will get her all set up for you to take while we process this transaction."

Nodding firmly, the boy hands over his master's chip. Extremely nervous about having to escort some creature, a seemingly very dangerous and feral thing from what he could gather from the mercs.

For spirit's sake, he was only ten!

Jack sneers at the boy. "Hey! Pay attention!" The runner snaps his attention towards Jack, shoving his inner worries to the corner of his mind for now.

"If it tries to misbehave or be stubborn… just press this button and it will emit a shockwave; just enough to startle and incapacitate her. But for extra… assurance…the longer you hold the button down… the longer the charge." He roughly grabs the runner's hand and slaps the remote in it before a sinister grin splits his face making the small boy gulp.

"Like this." Jack pushes his finger deliberately onto the button and simultaneously a loud shrieking and electric sound could be heard on the far corner of the room.

The kid whips his head in the direction of the distressed noise. Now seeing the creature completely for the first time as it shook, its red and dark brown fur standing on end. As Jack releases the button, it drops to the hard floor; getting nudged in the stomach with a boot until it struggled to its feet with a grown and a low growl, baring its' pearly whites towards the men.

The boy tries very hard not to cry at the sight as he gingerly slides the remote into his pocket. The rest of the scene was a blur and before he knows it, a thick, leather leash and the credit chip exchange hands.

"It's all yours kid. Have your boss message us when the job's done, we will collect our pet." He pats the animal on the head before shoving it towards the boy, making it stumble.

"Now go."

After sending a glare over its shoulder, its head turns and sapphire eyes stare up at him blankly. After regarding the animal briefly, the runner didn't feel frightened anymore. He could tell that the creature was just like him and he fought the impulse to give it a cuddle before spinning on his heals and walking out the door with his master's hand-for-hire.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It's been a few hours since his conversation with Peter and Rocket couldn't be at more of an impasse. Should he let his new friends know what's been bothering him lately, or should he just take solace in the fact that they haven't kicked his bushy, ringed tail out the airlock yet?

Chuckling to himself, he sorts through his materials and gadgets, scanning every piece with keen eyes and cataloging everything in his expansive brain. After checking each piece, he begins lazily sorting them out.

The genius tried to recall a time he had had such difficulty handling his emotions: not since he had befriended Groot. Before then he was a loose cannon, but Groot became someone he could confide in. Someone he could trust.

His first friend.

Shaking his head, Rocket mutters to himself, "He's not dead you idiot." Sure. Groot wasn't completely re-grown after the fall in _The Dark Aster_ , but that didn't mean that Groot cared any less. Even if his old friend couldn't respond or comprehend at the moment, he was still someone to talk to.

After awhile he sighs and gets up. If he was going to talk about sentimental and emotional shit, it was going to talk to someone who cared… and who couldn't speak more than three words of it to anyone. With determination set on his features, he turns towards the door and begins his search for Groot.

He's in a pot. It's not like he could get very far.

* * *

It always smells rank in these networking tunnels, and it was obvious by this boy's smell that he must use these as short-cuts to make his errands…

There's a hesitant cough from above, the archer looks up, trying to ignore the leash hanging between her and the small boy.

"So… uh…" the boy scratches at his dirty yellow hair nervously. She figures he has never seen her kind before… or at least not one that carries weapons.

Or on a leash. Fucking Jack.

"um… you are the infamous archer the higher-ups talk about?"

Dark sapphire eyes regard the boy coolly. A small, white brow raised.

" _The Archer_ …?" the young runner gives the furry creature a thorough once over.

She sighs heavily through her rounded, black nose and nods once. "I… I heard you are really good, and you have exploding arrows… is that right?"

The archer stumbles a bit and almost falls face-first into the nasty, mucky water beneath them. She was… a bit surprised. No one has every spoken to her with general interest before… she nods slowly, rolling her shoulders back before defiantly marching ahead of the boy (like she knew where they were going).

His face lights up with excitement and he starts trailing after her, rambling on and on about how he wants to learn and how some character in some story he read somewhere about an alien archer and he was "amazing" and "super cool" and "wore green" (which was his favorite color) and how he wants to learn the bow and such.

She started tuning him out, enjoying the feeling of dry earth beneath her feet as they began exiting the under-ground passageways. She begins to relax, beginning to forget that she's still chained to the –

Suddenly she's jerked backwards and falls flat on her back. Coughing and wheezing, she chastises herself.

_"Stupid to think he'd –"_

"Oh! Um… hold on!" there's a gentle tug at the back of her collar and she hears the mechanism and lock adjust and the hook to the leash come undone. "I really don't think this is necessary. You won't run… right?"

She stares at him with surprise, her short, white, fluffy ears twitching as she hears the leash hit the floor. "Common, lets go. I need to take you to Berk or he'll punish me again…" the boy chuckles nervously.

The kid then puts a thoughtful finger to his lip and mumbles, "I think I'm already late…"

He spins around and starts walking off to the right down an ally. Halfway down he turns and looks at her, "'Common Miss Archer!"

Shaking her head, the red-banded archer scrambles to her feet, readjusting the gear on her back before jogging after the boy.

* * *

"What is wrong with him?"

Drax inquired, pausing to examine the potted sprout as he entered the makeshift seating area. Navigating through the miss-matched furniture (or what barely _passed_ as furniture, if you were to ask Gemora) gun clips, docile bombs and miscellaneous objects.

Gemora rolled her eyes, polishing her latest toy (some weapon Rocket made her last week).

"He's been like this for hours." She looks over at the potted Groot, who was looking worried and murmuring agitatedly. Gemora softens her gaze as she regards the sprout again, understanding his distress. She couldn't imagine being confined to a pot, and pities her woodland friend.

Not that she'd let anyone see it.

Drax just grunts distractedly, barely acknowledging her reply as he had already forgot the question as he looked around the room, not knowing where to start his search.

The sound of a throat being cleared got the attention of the room, all regarding the newcomer differently; Groot with a frown, Gemora with a disinterested nod and Drax… he just looked he didn't know what he was supposed to do.

Rocket straightened himself up and strode confidently into the room, weaving expertly through the mess.

Just as Rocket was about to break the awkward silence, Quill's booming voice filled the space. "Hey! So we are all peachy now… " he trails off as he looks over at Gamora for confirmation, after seeing a nervous Drax and a fidgeting raccoon, "right…?"

Rocket, not looking at Drax, but at the others before settling back on Groot, a small smile on his friend's tiny face. "I am…" he struggles with the word, (his pride goddammit!) but then receives an encouraging nod from the plant, "sorry…"

Drax looks surprised and speaks up, "My friend. What are you sorry for?" Rocket snaps his head towards Drax, giving him an angry glare. "For almost blowing ya sorry ass to pieces." He growls.

Drax looks confused and blinks twice before Peter steps in between them.

Well… _trips_ in between them, having been bested by one of Rocket's submachine guns on the floor.

This has Rocket chuckling at the expense of the Star Lord's pain as he uses the makeshift table to help him stand up properly.

"Please guys… don't fight again. I can't take another brawl today –"

"Don't get your panties wet. I'm not here to fight with this fucker," he casts another steely glare at the Destroyer. "I'm here for Groot."

Upon hearing his name, the plant straightens up.

A silence falls in the room as Rocket turns and realizes that Groot's pot is too large and heavy now for him to carry alone…

Seeing the air thicken, Gamora nearly vaults off the couch and heaves the heavy plant into her arms, "I've got it." She all-but races out of the room.

Seeing as this was as good a time as any, Peter tossed it out there, "So when are you two going – "

"Not today, Quill." Rocket spats as he storms out of the room.

There was silence until Drax looked up at the Star Lord, "Quill… how can an "ass" be sorry? It does not feel emotions. It is very much impossible"

Peter walked over to the wall and banged his head twice, groaning before leaving Drax alone in the room.

Shrugging, Drax figured it wasn't important. Just some more words that the strange terrain throws about like confetti (that was a word he learned last week when it was thrown in his face).

Tossing everything else out of his mind, he focused on his task at hand…

He had a feeling his knife-sharpener was in here _somewhere_ … if only there weren't so many grenades and bomb-bits scattered across the floor.

Gamora kicked open the door to Rocket's small room and carefully set Groot on the ground by the rumpled bedding. She stands and turns to walk out and sees Rocket looking up at her.

They stare at each other until Gamora speaks out firmly, "Forgiveness is easier than stewing for revenge." She walks past the raccoon, her boots clicking on the floor, "If you want to talk, I will listen and will not judge. Though I think you already have someone for that."

She smiles gently as she looks at Groot in his pot and he waves back. Rocket looks down at his feet and then to the open door.

She's gone.

Turning to his potted friend he kicks the door shut behind him and makes his way to the bed. "How are you doing Groot?"

The animated plant wiggles a bit in his pot, before smiling and replying in a light voice "Groot." Rocket chuckles lowly, "still waiting on the "I" and "am" are we?" Groot just smiles and Rocket pats his back.

His friend's trunk was just longer the length of his claw; this gave him confidence that his friend will be back to his normal giant, lumbering self soon.

It made the raccoon smile.

He drops his hand before asking Groot if he likes his new pot.

After a beat, Rocket looks up at his friend.

"Hey! What's that look for?!" he shouts defensively.

"Groot."

The small tree was scowling with his twiggy arms crossed over his trunk. He wanted to know what was up with his furry friend; and Rocket was staling.

"Alright, alright… geez. You've gotten more bossy since we joined up with this crazy bunch."

"Groot." He smugly responds.

"Yeah, yeah… don't get used to it buddy."

Rocket stands and stretches his limbs before picking up a pillow and tossing it against the wall beside Groot. He flops down on top of it and sighs.

"You… you know I'm not good at this stuff. I am just –" Rocket twitches, then growls as he shoots to his feet and begins pacing his tight quarters.

"This is so _stupid._ " he stops and pulls at his ears, making a strangled noise. Groot just watches, knowing that his friend will eventually get out what's bothering him.

" _Vermin_." He spits out the word and growls as he resumes his pacing. "That's what they call me. _Rodent. Vermin. Thing. Freak._ " Rocket kicks some metal parts on the floor to the other side of his room in frustration and anger.

"Groot."

"I know our friends don't think of me like that it's just –" he makes an exasperated noise, pulling at his ears again.

"It's just…." He flops himself to the ground beside Groot again and buries his head in his hands, ears sagging to match his mood.

"Everyone else… has… has someone…" a breath.

"But there's no one for me."

"Groot?"

A frustrated roar breaks the quiet, shocking Groot as Rocket bolts up and stomps around the room.

"I shouldn't _care_. I have _accepted_ that stuff isn't for me but some part of me just…" he smacks his head into the wall twice and Groot makes a sound of concern.

" –Just wants that… wants what… what StarDork and Grumpy-Gamora have." He rests his head on the wall and sighs, lightly chuckling at his own little joke.

A moment of silence hangs between them and Groot sags a little in his pot at seeing his best friend like this.

Softly, Rocket continues, "I know it's stupid. Sounds lame and fucking wimpy…" he sniffs and closes his eyes.

"I feel like the others, think like the others… I just feel that I'm stuck in the wrong body. Who can see past this and love _me._ "

"Groot…"

Softly, Rocket mumbles to himself, tears brimming his deep brown eyes,

"Some days I just wish I didn't exist, but…"

There's a long, pregnant silence that stretches for what feels like hours to Groot.

Then softly, Rocket breaths in again:

"But I have a purpose."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Thank you all for the awesome reviews! I was very surprised, thanks for the interest!
> 
> I will post a new chapter every few days.
> 
> Some of you may be surprised what the character is! Keep looking at the hints here and there, and see if you can figure it out!
> 
> As for the POV of all the characters; remember that even Rocket in the movie didn't know what he was. So that's why there's no direct animal description: but of course, our wonderful StarLord will clear it all up for us. ;]
> 
> *Also, this was written two days after the premiere, and I was looking at some other fanfics and realized others were using StarDork! Haha. It popped into my head while writing and I went with it. Glad to see there are plenty of like-minded people!
> 
> 3
> 
> Kallen


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Are you fucking _insane!_ " a large, orange alien yelled angrily at the man wearing a thick cloak whose back was to the room. "They stole our product and you _don't_ want them back?!"

The boy and the archer slowly approach the door, overhearing the conversation going on inside. She was hesitant to go inside, but the boy grabbed her clawed hand and pulled her through the partially open metal doors.

"Yes, Tal'Kur." A deep, rumbling voice answers… soundly amused at the other's concern. The boy drops her arm and walks confidently towards the large, cloaked figure.

"Master Berk. I brought the archer you requested."

The upset employee scoffs and storms out of the room, slamming a door behind him.

"Ah. Tan, I have been expecting you." The cloak spins dramatically as the man turns sharply to face them. The archer stares up at the heavily shadowed figure as he descends the stone steps away from the large windows.

_"Well he's one for the dramatics isn't he?"_ she stares on unimpressed, crossing her arms defensively across her clothed chest.

"Thank you my boy… I will now speak to the archer alone." The boy bows quickly after his master hands him a few credits and scurries to leave the room out a side door.

She stares after him as he leaves the room, not expecting him to wave good-bye jovially before he carefully shuts the wooden door.

"Ah, Miss Archer. Aren't you a fine looking…. specimen." Berk drawls as he begins to circle her.

The man, who she couldn't tell what race he was… but appeared to be one of the big, blue aliens she as seen around a few times while passing through certain districts. They had all seemed rather raucous and dim-witted to her, but this one held himself with confidence and power.

_"So not an idiot."_ Her thoughts echoed in her mind as her eyes followed the strange man.

She didn't dare take her eyes off the man as he studied her. Eyes darkening as she regards him with suspicion.

He chuckles darkly.

"Though you are small and frail… you have nerve, I give you that much…" he walks away from her and back towards the steps to gaze out at the city's bleak horizon.

"I have a daunting task ahead… for those who are not quick and light on their feet. I have heard about your skills as I traveled from place-to-place for business."

He glances over his shoulder and motions her to come over. "You do not let yourself become widely known –do you lass?"

She straightens and walks up the steps determined to keep her composure. The large alien, Berk, did not sit comfortably with her, but she couldn't deny her interest in this supposed job.

_"Okay… so maybe I'm just glad to have a break from Jack and the idiots."_

She nods firmly and he chuckles again. "Silent and serious. I like that in a freelancer."

"Freelancer would suggest I am free to govern myself and choose my missions. I am currently not in such a position." She speaks firmly as she shoots him a defiant look.

A bark of laughter is released through the stone-walled room, "You claim to know your place, yet you have the gall to correct a superior," he laughs, picking up a manila folder from the desk beside him before spinning to look down at the small, ruddy-colored animal regarding him coolly. White ears twitching irritably and small, white brows drawn into a scowl.

Smirking, he continues, "This job is important to me. Review this file. Learn all you can. Find the information I need and any object or information extra you can give me –I will up your pay."

There is a loud metal _bang_ that echoes throughout the large room as a handful of men barge in arguing. Berk sighs heavily and shoves the folder in her face.

"Take this, archer. You have three days to get what I need."

She nods.

He throws his finger towards the door the boy went out of.

"Good. Now go."

Rocket awoke with a splitting headache. Groaning, he shifts himself 'til he drops on the floor with a frustrated growl. Groot yawns and stretches happily in his pot and regards his raccoon friend with droopy eyes.

"'Bout time you got your furry-ass up. We got food, I can't guarantee you that there will be much left after Drax cleans the kitchen."

Peter chuckles as Rocket glares up at him from the floor with beady brown eyes. Grunting, he stands. "Yea, yea asshole… I'm coming." He shoves against the half-human's leg as he heads towards the kitchen.

"Okay Groot. Let's go buddy!" Peter clapping his hands together, he bends down and heaves Groot up from the floor.

Stumbling a bit, he strains his muscles to carry his tree-friend.

"Shit dude… stop getting bigger and divert some of that freaky-growth-spurt shit into making some god-damn legs!"

"Am Groot!"

He hears Rocket cackle from down the corridor.

"Yea, yea, ya both are jerks..." Peter grumbles as he makes his way to the kitchen.

Rocket hung back after leaving Peter and Groot. He felt bad for the imbecilic human and decided (begrudgingly, one might add) that he'd help him out by opening doors for Peter as they went through to the kitchen.

"After you Princess!"

Of course this is Rocket Raccoon. He _had_ to make a few jokes at their resident Star-Dork's expense. It was pretty much in his daily to-do list.

"You can't be nice without being a dick, can you?"

"Wasn't in the contract, baby-cakes!"

Rocket snickers and Peter groans as they enter the kitchen (finally).

_BANG!_

Snickering and groaning stops as they look into the kitchen where Gamora had just hit Drax over the head… with a frying pan?

"DUDE! What the hell!" Peter struggles to set Groot down before rushing across the small kitchen to wrench the, now-bent, pan out of the green woman's hands.

"That swing was weak and not worthy of your training green female." Drax narrows his eyes at Gamora.

He's been getting the hang of 'taunting' others lately. No thanks to Rocket's influence and Peter's vocabulary lessons of-course (insert Gamora-eye-roll here).

Gamora is seething as she glares daggers at both Drax and Rocket before striding out of the kitchen; a metal door slamming shut seconds later.

Peter looks down sadly at the ruined pan, "That was my favorite frying pan…"

Rocket laughs at his misfortune. He could never get mad at Gamora for some reason, but she always seems to break his things in fits of anger…

Aaahh love. It's a weird, weird thing.

"So tattoo-face, what'd ya do to piss off that crazy bitch?" Rocket jerks a thumb over his shoulder where Gamora left before he climbs up two boxes to take a seat at the table.

"I am not sure… females, seem to be unpredictable in their rages." Drax shakes his head before going to take a large bite of his foot-long breakfast sandwich.

Rocket snickers, "Yea, especially green, scary ones!"

Drax slaps his thigh and laughs along with Rocket, "My animal friend, you are most amusing!"

Peter watches their exchange, relieved. He continues to listen to them chat idly while he gathers his food together.

"So guys!" he plops himself down into his rickety spin-chair and grins, slapping his plate of pancakes and some weird orange stuff onto the table, "I'm glad to see all the… stuff… from yesterday is all water under the bridge!"

Rocket looks over at Drax and sees it coming, "Here we go –"

Drax leans across the table towards Peter, "There is no bridge, nor are we going under it. We also do not have copious amounts of water to do so. We are in the depths of space, probably near the gamma quadrant?"

Peter and Rocket stare at each other. There is a pleading shine in Peter's eyes and Rocket shakes his head, "Ooooh no. You are the one who says stupid phrases. This is all yours!"

Drax looks between the two before shaking it off.

"Never-mind. I no longer wish to know any more of Quill's strange sayings and words from his terrain planet. Let me now eat my nutritious meal in peace."

"Or at least as much peace as anyone is going to be getting on this hunk of junk –"

Peter lunges across the table and aggressively shoves a finger dangerously close to Rocket's sumg-ass grin, "Do NOT talk about Milano that way! If you don't like it, I'll shoot you and your furry ass out the airlock!"

Rocket grins; back and forth banter and Peter squawking like an alien flight-bird; now _this_ was how mornings are supposed to be.

"I'd like to see you try twinkle-toes!" Peter glares while Rocket laughs and Drax just tries to ignore them all.

It's going to be a good day.

Jack and his band of misfits were currently gathered around two synth-board tables, looking for freelancers to help execute their next job. He'd posted a few discreet ads where he knew the type of people he was looking for would find it-desperate and unsavory types, of-course. The promise of easy money and future work would get him the bodies he needed; he was sure of it.

In all honesty, they just needed more targets for the inevitable rain of gunfire. If any survived, maybe he'd place them on retainer…?

So far they had twelve freelancers, more than just a few away from a safe buffer to keep his crew intact, and ensure the completion of his assignment. He glances across the filthy street and recognizes Berk's runner… running…

Idly he thinks about what Berk needed the stupid vermin-archer for. He couldn't deny the furry-thing's talents though. But he'd never admit (out loud) that it saved their asses a few times, which was why they kept such a tight leash on it.

The archer is their ace in the hole, but its' loyalty was not trustworthy; hence the imprisonment.

_"That shock and track device works wonders. Made especially so her stupid little paws can't screw with it."_ Jack chuckles to himself and takes a healthy gulp from his drink.

Loud shouting and crashing suddenly erupts in one of the side alleys. He glances over behind him and sighs; some of his men rough-housing with each other. Probably some stupid bet gone wrong; looking down at the drink on his desk he grunts.

" _Need something stronger…"_

Suddenly, there is a large, dark shadow cast over the table. Looking up he grins.

"Well, we don't get many Kree out here... but you look strong and capable." He spits off to the side before picking up the pad and pulling up the documents he needs the alien to sign.

"Interested?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Hey Assholes!"

All the guys stop laughing and look stupidly over at Gamora. Peter grins lopsidedly, "Heeeeey sexy laaaady!" the men snicker at that, Rocket letting out a _whoop_ and a clap to Peter's knee; only Groot frowning at their behavior.

She rolls her eyes, "Oh great. You're all drunk."

They need another female on this damn ship if she's going to keep her sanity with these idiots.

"We have a job. A representative will be wanting a conference in two hours." She walks towards the guys playing some stupid game in the center of the room. Effectively tuning her out (a phrase of Peter's she still doesn't get, which irritates her).

"This is _important_." She growls menacingly.

They all stare at her as she slaps Quill upside the head, knocking the poor sod over, while she passes by.

"So sober up!"

She slams the door leading to their quarters.

There's a silence in the air before Rocket looks at Quill and giggles, "Heeeey bitchy laaady!"

A roar of drunken laughter follows.

Groot sighs.

* * *

In the servants' quarters beneath Berks estate, Tan sees the furry alien sitting on the floor in the corner, disassembling her bow.

Her ears twitch as she hears the kid approach her; choosing not to acknowledge him yet. Tan drops himself to the floor with a childish excitement that is not common on Knowhere.

"What cha' doin'?"

She pauses and looks up at him with a bored look, raising her bow before going back to fiddling with its tech and mechanics.

There is silence as they both sit on the floor, the aroma of dinner drafting into the space. Tan smiles and watches his new furry friend for a few minutes, admiring the different colors he can see in her fur. Reds, coppers, browns and some white on her face and ears. Her tail was particularly funny to him, as the bushy thing twitches against the dusty floor.

Suddenly, she shifts to fix her pants and something rolls out from behind her. Curious as any child, he looks at the arrow in awe.

It was nothing like those he has seen on the extranet or in his old picture books. The arrow looked more like a magnificent piece of tech. Very thin, sleek and shiny; like the ones Berk won't let him touch (or breathe on) when he polishes some of the gear for the guards.

Looking over at his companion, he watches her as he slowly reaches out and brings the arrow to his lap.

Staring in wonder at the small weapon, he turns it over in his hands to look at all angles of it. "Whoa…" he breathes out in amazement as he notices there is a niche on one side of the arrow and goes to touch it.

With a twitch of her ear, the archer hears the boy mutter under his breath and turns to see what's so "fascinating."

Once she sees what he has held in his hands (and that he was about to activate the device) she lunges at the kid, knocking him on his back, and carefully extracting the arrow from his grasp.

She glares down at the boy. A hand-like paw pinning him down, the other holding the arrow up and away from the boy, behind her back, before asking him firmly,"Tan… what do you think you are doing?"

Tan looks up at her in shock. Her swiftness took him by surprise, but he found he wasn't afraid of the creature. He trusted her (as surly as she seemed).

"Weapons are _not_ toys." She says lowly, narrowing her dark blue eyes down at the kid, white ears flat against her red, furry head.

She growls lightly, "Understand? If you want to see something –ask."

She backs off the boy, returning to her spot to carefully put her arrows away. Tan sits up, ruffled and shame-faced as he stutters apologies left and right as the fuzzy archer packs away her things.

Once it's all packed away, she turns to look down at the pitiful child who is now grasping her bare ankle, begging her not to hate him; her eyes soften. Smiling slightly, she takes out the manila folder Berk had given her and also takes out a mini gadget from the side pocket of her bag.

"Here. If you manipulate this device so that all the sides are solid, it will open and give you a surprise. You can keep it if you figure it out." She tosses the small cube-like glowing object to her new little friend with a smile.

"It might come in handy one day." With a wink she continues to exit the servants' quarters to go over her assignment in private.

* * *

"So what's this bleeding job?" Rocket strolls into the cockpit, hung-over, with Peter and Drax on his tail.

Peter makes an obnoxious sound as he rubs his head, "need… meds… hurts…."

Gamora turns and smirks at the boys, "It is a pain you deserve." Drax looks at the two of them, "Agreed. You were not strong enough and therefore were defeated by the alcoholic beverages."

Peter moans again, taking a seat and Rocket leans against the metal wall to the right of Gamora with his arms crossed. "Yea, cause y'are built like a fuckin' tank," he spats.

"What's a tank?"

Gamora glares at her idiots, "Forget it. We are hired for a job. Nothing difficult, but it will earn us credits we desperately need for food and repairs."

"We wouldn't need repairs if Rocket wouldn't play with his stupid toys near the engine room." Peter mumbles petulantly.

"Well where am I _supposed_ to play with them?! You won't let them near the kitchen or the sleeping quarters!"

Green fury is officially activated, "STOP IT!"

"Can we get to the details of the plan? I want a worthy fight." Drax straightens up and smiles.

"Exactly, now listen –" Gamora spins back to the console, "this is a simple mission ensuring the safe travel of some cargo to their intended destination."

"Aaaaaaww! That's boring ass shit!"

"Definitely disappointing." Drax grumbled.

"I wanted to shoot something besides the walls of Milano for once!"

" _What?!_ "

"Enough." Gamora stands up from her station, making eye contact with each of her idiots. "We are doing this job. The pay is 70,000 credits."

Eyes widen.

"Which is more than enough for something so simple."

They all mutter in agreement as they turn to leave and prep.

"However." They all turn back to look at their green lady-friend.

She smirks, "It's on Knowhere… so there should be a bit of fun in that. Expect some resistance." She turns back to her station.

The guys cheer and head out, excitedly chattering about _finally_ having something to do (and maybe hitting up the betting tables afterwards).

Gamora sets in a course to Knowhere. Milano bleeps in confirmation of destination and she sets the autopilot.

"Must be important cargo if he's afraid someone will steal it…"

* * *

A Krylorian kneels before Berk as she hands him his meal-plate.

"So they have plans to ship and sell our product with their own cargo?"

"It would seem so."

"Aaaannd we are… what? Going to _let_ them."

"Not quite."

"So then what is the plan?"

"I have it all taken care of, I hired a few freelancers to smuggle it out of there." Berk grins, taking the plate from his servant's hands. Not acknowledging her in the slightest.

"You are trusting _that_ particular cargo to mere _freelancers?!"_

"They are not aware of the contents, so I am not concerned. I have other plans for your team."

"And what if they _fail._ That's mil-"

"Don't worry 'Kur… it's all for the good of the business. Besides, I have a back-up plan." He winks cheekily as he pats his employee on the shoulder before leaving the room, allowing the big, iron doors to shut with a loud _clang._

"Crazy bastard." He turns to the servant. "You are free for the night. Leave."

"Yes sir." She bows before rising to leave the chamber through the side wooden door.

The beautiful Krylorian strolled down the servant's hallways, making her way outside.

After softly closing the door behind her, she leans against it. A devious smirk splitting across her face, she takes out a small communicator from her pocket and turns it on.

"Shana here."

_"Report."_ A gruff, female voice responds through the device.

"I have the details. We pull this off, we are set and can leave this blasted place."

_"Or create a business of our own."_

"Yes ma'am."

_"Meet us at the spot. We will prepare there. Good work."_

"Any time." She chuckles as she clicks shut the communicator.

"Bastard won't know what hit him."

The Krylorian, Shana, disassembles the device, seemingly beyond repair, and throws the pieces into a rubbish bin in the side alley before heading back inside to the servants' quarters, slamming the door behind her.

Unbeknownst to her, the boss's newest freelancer overheard the supposedly secret conversation. Ears twitch to sense if the coast is clear before scurrying down from her precarious perch, file in hand.

She stands, pulling a small gadget from her rear pocket near her tail before setting the files on fire, effectively destroying them. Once they were turned to ash, and carried away by a waft of air, she began to approach the bin to reassemble the device. Already making the decision to not inform her ominous employer… yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N:
> 
> The action starts soon! It's meant to be a bit chaotic, so if I don't convey that well, please let me know in a PM and I will go back and edit!
> 
> Also, any guesses after this chapter as to what animal my OC is? ;]
> 
> Chapter 6 should be up this weekend. Chapters 7-9 next week!
> 
> Thank you all for the reviews. They encourage me to post more often!
> 
> PM me if you find anything spelled wrong or something. Like to have things as polished as possible but I'm only human!
> 
> 3
> 
> -Kallen


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

After overriding the door Berk specified on the furthest side of the warehouse (third door down from the front), she surveys the perimeter of the building before taking a moment to look for a way inside. A breeze ruffles her auburn fur, and ruffles the loose, black halter top she has tucked into her forest green cargos. After her survey, she spots a window high up towards the top of the structure.

_"Should be able to get in through there. Then I'll already be up in the rafters, decreasing the chance of being detected."_ Smirking, she gets herself to cover behind a large dumpster canister as she hears approaching footsteps and voices. Ensuring she was ensconced in shadows, she peered out to see who the guards were…

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Then she said, 'please? Another round?'" a bumbling Centaurian barks out a laugh.

"That is enticing Jeroth! Surly something happened after?"

She rolls her eyes at their stupid conversation, hunkering down as their voices fade off when turning a corner. Checking that the coast is clear, she crawls on top of the large canister and starts climbing the building, her hands glowing slight blue as she quickly scrambles the last meter to the small window.

Needing a free hand, she anchors herself to the wall by extracting her metal claws; digging them into the thick plaster as she used her nifty tools to disintegrate the glass.

_"Knew that would come in handy… but Jack and his band of idiots can keep getting sliced by glass for all I care."_

Proud of her gadget, she smirks again before crawling in through the opening; a translucent powder trickling down to the ground below.

She strains her senses to detect any activity, tail twitching in excitement. The gal doesn't get to do these kinds of solo missions often.

Hearing and detecting nothing, she surveys the rafters running throughout the warehouse, and sees some doors on the far side.

_"They look like offices or something… interesting."_

She takes her time tip-toeing around the network of rafters, beams, and miscellaneous equipment within the space, taking note of every nook and cranny, any possible places for optimum spying and possible shooting if she must (she's really hoping so).

Her sensitive ears pick up movement from the far, far end of facility. Knowing it's almost show time, she prepares herself by further mapping out the network of rafters and beams.

_"A freelance team is coming to ensure delivery… he's expecting there to be trouble if he is paying so much to have two freelance groups in this… "_ she begins to set up her arrows.

Idly she goes over the events of the previous evening.

_"Wonder if he suspects betrayal from his team already... most likely. He doesn't strike me as stupid –despite how he looks."_

* * *

"Sooooo... that guy was a hoot." Rocket drawls sarcastically as they make their way to the address Berk gave them.

Gamora sighs and leads the group up to the side doors mentioned in their assignment, going over the plans with her numbskulls once more.

"He told us to go ahead and take the box and ensure delivery; that others may try to steal it away with force."

"But why would he leave that out in the initial message?" Peter asks lightly prepping himself to tap into his badass "Star Lord" side.

"Perhaps he didn't want stuff on the com channels. Some of these underground tycoons are anal about that shit." Rocket adds in as he fiddles with his pistols and grenades.

"I am looking forward to confrontation." Drax turns and tells Gamora. She smirks at her tattooed friend.

Peter goes to open the door, finding it stuck. He groans, "Wasn't it supposed to be open?"

"He probably forgot to tell his bone-heads to leave it unlocked for us. Out of my way, I got this." Rocket pushes through his friends to make it to the door and begins to disable the door lock.

"Sonofa' what kind of lock is this? Fucking grey-faced turd-ball."

The group rolls their eyes as he continues to fumble with the lock.

* * *

Her white, fluffy ears pick up the light murmuring of voices as the door to the far side of the room is being fiddled with along with a few choice curse words from a man's sharp, gruff voice. She giggles as she hides herself from view. Keeping her ears keen to any sound within radius.

It was heavily _suggested_ that she disable the door for the back-up crew. Didn't mean she _had_ to.

Or that she couldn't mess with them a bit.

_"Wasn't about to make it easy for them."_ She chuckles to herself as she settles into cover.

She's surprised though when the door across the warehouse clicks open sooner than she expected; smirking as she overhears bitching and friendly banter from her hidden position.

_"The team must make away with the cargo; no matter what. And every other group tagged."_ She repeats the files' instructions in her head.

She grasps her bow grinning as she hears activity just outside of the door underneath her spot; a bunch of female voices.

Probably the Krylorian and her friends from last night…

_"Looks like things will be getting interesting."_

* * *

"What Rocket, are you losing your touch buddy?" Peter teases as they stroll into the warehouse.

Rocket shoves his weapon into his friend's leg, "Careful what you say Quill, I'll blow yer stupid leg off."

"How can a limb be stupid?"

Rocket laughs mockingly, "Every part of Star-Dork here is stupid."

"You are going to get it when we get back to the Milano you asshole." Peter glares down at his raccoon friend.

Gamora shakes her head and mumbles under her breath, "I am surrounded by idiots."

Drax looks around the space, "So where's this special box. It will tell us where it goes, yes?"

Suddenly, a shot fires, the sound smacking against the concrete walls, causing the team to jump out of their skin.

* * *

Up in the rafters, the archer winces at the sound, stalking to a new location to view both the group and the infiltrators simultaneously.

_"Ah, so I was right. Krylorians… wasn't expecting them to be armed though. Do they even know how –"_

Then one of them tossed something prematurely and it exploded, knocking everyone, including her teammates, onto their rears.

_"Well that answers that. Did they just raid an armory and improvise from there?"_ she thinks to herself as she watches the unorganized Krylorian gang attempt to take a formation and attack. From the other end of the warehouse she hears –

"Shit!"

"That was close –"

"Get to cover assholes!"

The pink and red ladies collectively shout and charge into the open space, carelessly firing off their weapons.

_"They would have had an upper hand had they stayed in cover… this is going to be sad to watch."_

She continues to watch as Krylorian girls flood the room, looking to be able a group of twenty. The green lady and a large, shirtless, tattooed man were disabling them easily as their two companions fired out bullets from behind a stack of crates.

Suddenly there is a load roar from the large, main door –a small army of Centarians wearing red and black uniforms (and heavily armored) storm head-on into the chaos.

_"Wow. This is a party all right. Cue more careless gunfire, stage left."_ She drawls in her head.

This all just looked like one big cluster-fuck. Would have been no challenge if not for the large numbers of the bastards.

"Too many bodies in this damn room." She grumbles and settles in to watch things carry out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> I am hesitant to release the next two chapters. They are long and finished but I worry about the pace. So I will hold those back another day or two until I feel it's a little more solid!
> 
> For those of you who are wondering who the OCs identity is... it will remain unknown until later. Keeping it as realistic as I can. Her name, and identify; past, etc. Will slowly start to unravel throughout the story as things progress, as it's tied in with the climax and the catalyst.
> 
> Also, has anyone guess what race the "big baddy" is yet? It's a reference to a race in the Marvel universe.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"What the HELL?!"

"You all wanted a fight… here it is assholes!" Gamora roared at her companions as she was taken by surprise.

"Damn it! Rocket, no more jinxing us!"

"You wanted to shoot shit too fuck-tard!"

"Peter, help over here!"

Quill turns to where Gamora is and helps shoot off two of the six pink ladies crowding his almost-sort-of-girlfriend (they really needed to settle that shit).

"Centaurians _and_ Krylorians… what the hell?! I didn't even know Krylorian lady-warriors _existed_!"

"What is so special about this stupid box?!" Rocket grumbles back at Peter, switching weapons as he ducks back behind his crate.

Drax meanwhile was enjoying the fight; easily swiping the weak Krylorians out of his way as he targets the larger, heavily armored Centaurians.

Two Centaurians break the necks of three Krylorians, making witnesses cringe.

"Retreat! Ladies, retrea –" that Krylorian gets a dozen holes through her chest as the remaining girls flee through the door they entered from.

* * *

She winces as she watches the scene unravel beneath her perch,

"Ouch."

Her spot begins to shake and the crates begin to collapse underneath her as she times her leap onto the closest rafter back in the ceiling and makes her way towards the Krylorians' exit.

_"Time to deploy this device."_ She grins. These girls were making things too easy.

She almost felt bad for their failure. They lost more than half of their makeshift group.

Timing their exit carefully, she targets one and drops the translucent device. It lands on the scared red lady's shoulder. Flashing green before turning translucent once again.

_"Success."_

Turning her attention back to the fight, she sees two Centaurians aiming a missile launcher in the direction of the crates, hoping to eliminate two of the team members.

_"Oh no you don't assholes."_ In one swift movement she retrieves an arrow, draws and fires.

* * *

Rocket takes a deep breath before straining to peek over the crates to target some of these buffoons.

"Holy –"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence, or react to the missile launcher aimed in his direction as he sees the shooter suddenly drop his weapon and freeze. His entire body ensconced in thick ice.

In a blink of an eye, two more are turned to ice.

There's a moment of confusion and some hesitation from the rooms' combatants, wondering if there was another threat to watch out for.

Rocket quickly looks for the source. He sees (and _feels_ ) something fly in front of his face, startling him. He follows it's trajectory, holding his breath as he sees a Centaurian (who got too close to his dorky friend for comfort) turn to ice; weapon falling to the ground with a loud clank.

Turning towards the large, steel doors he sees another group of Centaurians charge in before the large, thick, heavy metal doors close and a lock slams into place.

The sound of more locks engaging fills the room, heard over the gunfire and chaos.

Rocket growls low in his throat, _"Locked in with fifty of these idiots. Great."_

Peter shouts over the fighting, "We're locked in!"

Rocket growls louder, snapping at his friend, "No shit?! Now grab that sorry bastard's gun and start –"

Gunfire cuts him off, a stray bullet whizzing too close to his furry little ears, _"Damn."_

Drax is thrown backwards near Peter. As he stands to defend himself he shouts to him, "Where is the green one?"

* * *

Narrowing her focus, the archer continues to aide the team from afar with her cryo-arrows. Sliding back into the shadows after a shot, she easily navigates the rafters above.

Once she saw a… what?

From behind the crates she helped to guard earlier came a small, grey and black furry creature, with patterns very similar to herself. She stared transfixed, almost losing her balance, as he gave out a battle cry and slid across the floor while dodging a torrent of bullets and simultaneously firing some of his own.

"Hooooooooyeaaaaa baby! I'm blowing this joint!" He grasps the launcher from the ground by the frozen warrior, aims and fires it across the room into a group of six Centaurians.

Her brows raise and she can't help a smirk cross her features.

_"I like his style."_

Then, a peach-skinned man (possibly terrain?) in leather catches her attention as he shouts and throws a device into the center of a group of Centaurian bone-heads.

She expects a blast but instead it lights up and creates an electric pull, causing the four men to be yanked into each other, trapping them effectively within the device's electro-field.

_"That is ingenious… I must try to replicate that next time I'm –"_ her tail twitches as she leaps and rolls, dodging stay bullets as she moves along the rafters, watching the fight.

* * *

Laughing like a maniac, Rocket grabs a discarded machine-gun and fires it, mowing down the bastards.

"Dude chill out! You almost shot me!"

Roaring in laughter Rocket responds, "Then I'll just have to try harder!"

Suddenly the weapon runs out of ammo.

"Aw shit."

"Rocket."

Nearly jumping out of his furry skin he is jerked back between and behind some metal boxes and crates.

"What the hell la –"

" _Rocket_. Listen."

At the urgency in her voice the overzealous, mouthy raccoon shuts up.

"I've located the box. I moved it over there in that corner." She points across the warehouse.

"Looks far from here."

"Go get it. You'll be able to get the hover-cart to work. It's got some weird lock on it. I don't have the patience. So get us out of there, and take this." Gamora shoves a large weapon into his orange-clad chest and disappears into the fray.

Rocket sputters before resigning to his fate, "Awww shiiit." Looking across the space, he sees the crate. "That looks an awful lot farther than it should be." A bullet whizzes by, imbedding itself into the crate beside his head.

"Aaaaand that's my cue to move my ass." he takes off down the warehouse, leaping over boxes and weaving through stray Centaurians with his target in sight.

_"This shit is so much easier with Groot."_ He grumbles to himself as he throws himself a few feet to avoid a collision with a behemoth.

* * *

She attempted to go around to all the doors and disable them, but it was near impossible. She couldn't even overload the circuits or electro-panels since they were nowhere in the ridiculously large room!

_"They are trapped… they have something planned perhaps?"_

She looks all around the room. Tuning out the noise around her, she runs her keen, dark, sapphire eyes over the space.

Suddenly she spots a Centaurian talking into his ear-piece, giving orders to his men. Narrowing her eyes for a sign of what he was doing, she sees him pull –a mask out of his side pocket.

Her eyes widened. This can't be good. Darting her gaze around the ceiling and floors of the warehouse, looking for vents or gas cani –

_"Found them."_

She makes her way to one of the canisters, "Knock out gas… a weaker species can die instantly from this." She mutters as she attempts to disable the device attached to it, reminding herself that she and her furry counterpart were most likely those species.

Looking over her shoulder she sees more Centaurians reaching for gas masks, and the nearest canister counting down minutes and seconds.

"Shit."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

After directing Rocket to the crate, Gamora jumped back into the fray – trusting that her tech-genius friend will be able to configure the hover cart to blast everyone out of here.

Soon.

After a round-house and an axe-kick, she leaped back near where Quill was fighting off three stubborn, but well armored, idiots. With a pause, Gamora looked up into the rafters quickly, seeing a small, dark silhouette shoot across the beams to the corner of the warehouse.

Distracted by what she saw, the ex-assassin was kicked down.

"Gamora!" StarLord shouted urgently, making eye-contact with Drax who nodded as Quill tossed him a downed Centaurian's gun. Drax provided cover-fire while Peter raced over just as Gamora was struggling to her feet.

"Please tell me you have a plan." He pressed as he assisted Gamora, pressing her gun into her hands. Gamora, straight-faced and un-phased, shoved him behind the nearest metal crate for cover while Drax found his own several feet away as a grenade detonated.

"I located the cargo but the cart was locked. Rocket should be able to fix it –" Gamora shouted above the hail of gunfire the remaining warriors (or whoever the hell they were) bestowed upon the tiring guardians.

Peter peeked over the crate and saw one of the guys signal to four of his groupies to go after Rocket who was busy doing his tech-thing to the cart.

Looking at Gamora with alarm he reloaded his weapon, "They've spotted him, he needs cover," he turns towards where Drax pulled back into cover, a few bullet wounds grazing his torso and arm. "Drax!-" Peter started, but Gamora jerked him to regain his attention.

Staring annoyed at Gamora she pointed up towards the rafters above. Following her finger he was able to see a slight flash before hearing a yell erupt on the other side of the warehouse.

"So there is someone _else_ here," Peter groaned under his breath as he raised above the crate to take a few more shots at a Centaurian that got a little too close to them for his liking.

"They aren't an enemy, at least at the moment." Gamora added.

"Whoever they are, they are providing cover for Rocket. Weird, but that's all that mat-" an explosion nearby them interrupted Peter as he rolled out of cover, preparing to fire when he noticed something odd.

Drax peeked out of his cover as well at the slowing of gunfire, he realized it the same time the others did.

"Quill. They are wearing masks, why?"

"They plan to gas us!" Gamora shouted as she grabbed Quills arm, dragging him across to where Drax was. "We need to get out of here, we don't all have protection," she turned and glared at Peter, "and no one is going to be a martyr today."

Peter sighed, "Let's hope Rocket has some crazy crap to get us out of here. I don't give a shit about the job anymore."

Drax grunted, "Agreed."

* * *

Meanwhile across the warehouse, Rocket was just doing his thing. Seeming not to be under any pressure at all. But the archer was quite busy ensuring he remained that way; begrudgingly.

_"The asshole is humming like he's at a fucking tea party!"_ she growls to herself as she continues to draw fire towards the men attempting to get to the idiot messing with the tech on the cart.

_"Screw this. I shouldn't have time to guard him and disable the canisters too –"_ she quickly stuns a merc who was trying to sneak up on the furry asshat in orange, scolding herself.

_"What am I even_ _**doing** _ _. This isn't my job."_

With a blink of her eye and another growl of frustration (she was starting to feel the pressure), she whipped out a golden colored arrow from her pack, slightly thicker than the others and shoots it towards the men's feet, causing a small explosion to knock them out.

She smirks, _"That'll buy me some time –"_

Suddenly her keen ears caught the sound of a slight beeping…

The timer.

"Shit." She curses under her breath as she launches herself towards the nearest canister.

Hearing a loud _whoop_ of success from below her, she left the canister and leaned over the edge of the beam she was on to see that he had the cart set up to speed out. She watched as he then groaned, realizing there wasn't an exit.

In a different situation, this would have been amusing. She allowed herself a small smile before turning the cogs in her head.

She examines the wall across from them, and about twenty feet from the rest of his friends.

Rising back up from her spot, she made her decision.

The amble archer dropped down and landed softly behind the small furry creature grasping onto the crate, muttering curses and something along the lines of 'someone not letting him live this down'.

She watched him for a few precious seconds before she decided to sneak forward and start his contraption on the cart, which propelled it forward with a large jerk.

"Fuck. I don't have my blast –"

Suddenly, the large hover-cart he was on lurches forward. Rocket spins his head around, one claw latched onto the cart. In a split second he saw a flash of a ruddy red color.

"What the – _ack_!?"

The thrusters (which he modified with miscellaneous shit in order to give it a little more "oomf") suddenly kicked in and he was sent off into the fray. Mowing down a few of the enemy mercs who were just starting to get back on their feet from a small grenade thing.

All other thoughts flew out of his mind as he frantically tried to figure out how to simultaneously maneuver the fucking cart, pick up his friends _and_ blast through the dang wall.

Unbeknownst to him, his currently unidentified counterpart was about to take care of that last bit herself.

* * *

The archer scrambles up the crates, boxes, ladders, and machines – anything that would get her back up in the rafters to a better vantage point ASAP.

_"Twenty seconds."_

After a curse, she feels bullets singe her fur and suddenly she has become a target for one stupid Centarian bastard. Being occupied with climbing, she had no other weapons besides her bow to rely on.

Speed and agility would have been her friend, if only her stupid feet would stop slipping! She frantically looks behind her, contemplating letting herself just fall and take the damage, but then realized a laser-sight was right on her chest.

_"Shit shit shi-"_

The Centarian abruptly crumples to the ground. Shocked, her eyes meet the calculating ones of an accomplished assassin.

The two females in the room regard each other.

A nod of recognition is shared. Then the archer gathers her bearings and leaps into the rafters.

_"Twelve seconds."_

* * *

"GAMORA! Get on!"

The green-skinned assassin spins around finding Rocket, with Peter, barreling towards her on the hover-cart. Shooting two Centarian mercs point-blank through the skull, and dislocating one's knee, she leaps over a large wooden crate, grasping Peter's hand in the nick of time before the cart takes a sharp turn to get Drax.

"So Rocket! You have a plan to blast us out of here?!"

"Nope!"

"Then what are we doing! They are going to gas us!"

"They are what!?" Rocket squeaks as the cart is disturbed as they ran over an unsuspecting merc.

"No one said anything to be about _gas!"_ Rocket screams angrily at Peter, scowling at him over his shoulder.

"Dude! Watch where you're going!"

" _Guys."_

They shut up.

"Rocket, head towards Drax, he's to the left. Ten feet. Then, make a lap around the room."

"You got it babycakes." Rocket grunts as he tries to maneuver the blasted cart without killing them.

Peter looks at Gamora with surprise. "You know how to get us out of here?" He starts to smile and sigh in relief.

"No."

His face drops, and she takes her eyes off of Rocket's horrible cart-driving skills and meets Peter's apprehensive ones.

"But I know we'll have an opening soon."

Peter looks confused before ignoring it all and reaching a hand out to drag Drax onto the cart.

Gamora looks up to the rafters and sees a glint. Hoping she was right.

* * *

" _Five seconds."_ Keeping an eye on the timer beside her and on the team cramming themselves onto the cart with the cargo, she readies her bow as she waits for the cart to make a turn.

_"I can't control the structural integrity of this building. I hope they make it out before it collapses. Haven't tested this one in awhile."_

"Four."

A collective yell and frantic bickering between the team could be heard below her, but she tunes it out. Taking a steady breath.

"Three."

She draws back her bow and an alarm starts blaring. Flashing red and yellow lights color the room and add to the chaos.

The canisters are hissing.

"Two."

She prepares to release the modified arrow. Hoping they take the chance to escape.

There's nothing else she can do.

"One."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Alright! Now what?!" Rocket roars as he starts to panic at the sound of the canisters hissing.

"Wait for it." Gamora mutters as evenly as she can, anxiously shifting her gaze back up to the rafters while trying to hang on to the metal cart.

"Uh, Gam! I don't know if you've noticed but _we have no-"_

Gamora was able to see the direction their secret ally was pointing her weapon.

She lunges for the steering, nearly knocking Rocket off the cart and increasing the speed; determination was set on her stony face, sweat beading on her brow.

"Gamora!" Peter squeaks, looking properly frightened while Rocket's looking hysterical.

Drax just chooses to close his eyes and remain silent. Trusting in their green-skinned friend.

Rocket leaps onto Gamora's back, sinking his claws into her shoulders and trying to force her to turn the cart.

"YOU'RE RUNNING US INTO A WA-"

_BOOM!_ The air seems to rumble and light blinds them for a millisecond and then they are outside.

* * *

Rocks and debris fly everywhere just as the canisters burst open. Still frozen in her formation, she holds her breath until she sees the team and the hover-cart fly out the side through her make-shift door, right as the structure is about to collapse on itself.

Allowing herself a sigh of relief, she inhales a calming breath, only to choke on it.

_"Shit shit shit."_

Adrenaline pulsing throughout her small, fury body – her eyes desperately search for a way out. She sees a small light in the far corner where she was up in the rafters.

_"The way I came in –"_

She's starting to feel dizzy and just in time she jumps to another beam as the one she was on crashes to the crates below.

_"Got to keep moving, keep moving…"_

* * *

"AAAAAHHHHHH!"

Rocks and chunks of cement and plaster chase the guardians out of the facility –

Right down a steep incline.

Gamora looks more at ease, and she takes complete control of steering. Peter and Rocket are screaming their lungs out; both probably pissing their pants at the close call, and Drax –

He was laughing like this was some kind of ride.

As they only keep picking up speed though, Gamora starts to panic, "Rocket! Stop crying and steer this thing! We need to slow down!"

"Not cryin'! Now move over!" He shoves his way between Gamora and the front of the cart, willing himself to focus once more. Within seconds, Rocket is back on his game, effortlessly dodging the pursuing debris and maneuvering the cart to pass through a narrow alley at the bottom of the incline.

* * *

Lethargically, the archer struggles while climbing over the boxes and avoiding debris as the roof begins to collapse.

_"Almost…there… "_

Feeling darkness beginning to tug at her vision, she musters up all the strength and will she can and charges right to the small opening and throws herself through, flying towards an old communication post.

Using her bow, she zip-lines down and away from the complex as the facility crumbles to the ground; green and grey smoke rising into the already putrid outside air.

One, last, large explosion throws her off the line, sending her crashing into the ground and getting a muzzle full of filth. Wheezing, coughing and gasping, she shakes as she drags herself to the nearest cover, pulling her bow close to her.

After resting a few seconds, and she hears the screams and curses from the team echo throughout the backstreets.

She lets out an exhausted laugh, coughing into her paw.

"Well that was fun."

With a weary body, she stumbles to her feet and shakes the debris out of her fur before making her way, shakily, around the perimeter of the destroyed building, looking for any Centaurian survivors she can track.

Her job wasn't over yet.

* * *

Finally reaching the bottom (relatively safely), and now out of harms way, they all begin throwing themselves onto the ground (Peter pretty-much kissing it).

There is finally quiet hanging in the air for a few precious seconds.

"Well that was _definitely_ not boring." Peter mumbles sheepishly, trying to lighten spirits.

All look at him.

Rocket lets out a breathy laugh, "No shit. So much for easy money."

Drax is the first to fully get up, "Definitely unexpected, but such a grand exit!"

Exhausted laughs come from Peter and Rocket; Gamora watches them and allows a relieved and happy smile grace her soft, green features.

"Alright boys, fun's over. Let's get rid of this thing."

There are mumbles of agreement as the boys pick themselves up and attempting to make the cart more presentable for delivery, excitedly chattering about the previous events of what they _thought_ was going to be a boring evening.

Gamora dusts herself off and looks up towards the top of the incline, seeing a large plume of green, yellow and brown smoke from the debris and gas. A slight frown tugs at the corners of her pretty mouth before she lets out a breath.

"Come- _on_ Gamora, let's get moving already! I need a drink!" Rocket grouches as the other men nod in agreement. Rolling her eyes she marches over to them, playfully flicking Rocket's furry ear before shoving a finger into Peter's chest.

"You owe me a drink. Let's go."

She pulls out their data pad, scanning the crate and then leads the way towards the delivery address.

* * *

Just like any society, the slums that make up Knowhere are heavy with rumors.

Unlike elsewhere however, most of the rumors wandering _these_ streets had the grand potential to be very deadly due to their clientele.

That is exactly what he was searching for, rumors.

Information on certain illegal activities for nothing more than personal gain; however if you were to ask this man what his reasons were...

You wouldn't live to breathe another word of it.

What he has been traveling the galaxy for during the past two standard years? Unfortunately for these men, they seemed to have the information he craved.

A Kree sat in the shadowed corner of the busy bar, keeping his ears keen for mentions of the secrets and rumors he was searching for. The man whose image he now possesses had been somewhat useful after all.

Before he led him out to his death, the man had screamed in desperation that if such rumors and information were to exist, one would most likely buy and sell them at Knowhere.

But he had no intent to _buy_ anything, as the other had found out rather quickly; and permanently.

"Hey, did y'all hear that huge explosion earlier?! Heard that one of the Armored Cents fortified warehouses collapsed."

"No one made it out alive." A gruff voice added with a laugh and a slap to his knee.

Another at his table rolls his eyes, "Yes they did."

"Just not _all_ of them."

"Yea, they took a pretty big hit. This is going to hurt their standings."

Everyone agreed and took a drink.

"Does anyone know who's responsible?"

"The rumors say it was a small band of freelancers."

One scoffs, "No way. Freelancers around here are hardly that formidable to stand up against one of the Cents' main warehouses."

"I heard they weren't from 'round these parts." A silky female voice added to the conversation.

"No shit?"

"Yea. They had some furry pet-thing with them. Do you remember that funny-looking thing that was in here earlier? Kinda looked like Xandarian vermin?"

"You mean like every one in this bar?" There's a slap to a shoulder.

"You talking 'bout the one Ash-luri shot at for stealing his coin?"

"He didn't _steal_ , he _won._ "

"Unfairly if you ask Ash."

A harsh laugh rolls around the table of ruffians. "Always a sore loser." The female in the group shakes her head and chuckles.

"Gotta admit though, as annoying as that fucker is, he's got brains on him."

"Yea, some kinda weapon's expert-genius animal thing."

"A freak of nature is more like it."

"He's the same one rumored to have busted out of that high-security prison, right?"

"Yup."

"It's not a genius, that's a crazy mother fucker right there if I never've seen one."

The conversation takes a turn, and they continue in their drunken merriment, unbeknownst them, there was a certain customer who was devising a plan to extract further information.

He _will_ get what he came for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> BAM!
> 
> Felt bad for leaving it at a cliffhanger, so decided to complete the scene. In the next few chapters, they will meet!
> 
> Yay! I am very excited about the next series of chapters I have. They are essential to the plot and there are some good feels as well learn just a little bit more about our secret archer -
> 
> Stay tuned!
> 
> * Also, I have started a TT fanfic. It's going to be a three-part series. I promise you, though it may seem anticlimatic at first - if you like angst, romance and lots of feels - and you enjoy reading the characters' depth of emotion and passion, this will be a good story for you to follow.
> 
> Check it out is you are a TT fan!
> 
> Lots of love,
> 
> Kallen


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry this took so long. I have not got around to editing it as much as I wanted to, but a lot of things came up this weekend.
> 
> If anything is not clear, or needs further explanation, please PM me!
> 
> The next two chapters is what everyone has been waiting for!

**Chapter 10**

"That ass-wipe dared to call me, _me_ a fucking _cheater_! That son-of-a-bitch is fucking _lucky_ I didn't blast his _fucking fugly face off_ _!"_

Both Gamora and Peter cringed as their friend roared out his indignation while on their way back to the _Milano_. They were both solemn once they entered the hull of their ship and Rocket started to continue his tirade about the evening at the bar.

Shit had gotten ugly fast once Rocket started shooting off his smart-ass mouth, taunting the other gamblers as he was winning. And of course, in drunken rage, every species is susceptible to loose lips.

Rocket growled and paced as Peter and Gamora stood there, unsure of how to respond to their raccoon companion.

Should they be sympathetic? Outraged? Or just let their friend rant it out?

As awkward as they typically are when it comes to these types of things (and since Rocket wasn't trying to murder anyone at the moment or destroy the ship), both decide to let him ride this one out and maybe… just _maybe_ approach the subject in the morning.

That is, if their furiously drunk and enraged friend even _remembers_.

They share a look as Rocket kicks a metal weapons case, holding back an angry sob.

For their friend's sake, they are hoping he won't.

"I _know_ I am a _freak_! I am well _aware_ that I am not _normal._ But at least I'm smarter than those fuck-faces!" he growls, grabbing one of his guns and chucking it at the opposite wall.

His audience stares. Peter was annoyed that this had happened so soon after their talk, and Gamora watched on with a sorrowful expression.

They watch as Rocket stands there, heaving heavy breaths while growling to cover up the angry, frustrated tears. His shaking increases until he's nearly vibrating the entire ship before he throws up his arms and roars.

"Fuck _everything_!"

They watch the raccoon stomp and stumble his way to his makeshift room. The sound of crashing and angry sobs continues.

In a few seconds everything went quiet. Then Peter picked up the pacing.

"Fuck… Fuck… fuck, _fuck_!" Peter slams an enraged fist into the wall, trying to hold back a growl.

Gamora, her eyes shining with unshed sorrow glowers at her partner, "They went too far."

Peter spins towards his green companion, "No shit."

They hear a hiss and then heavy footfalls before Drax re-enters the room. Blood spatters over his tattooed chest and fists, "The offenders have been dealt with." He stops beside Gamora, who's watching him as he surveys the scene.

"Where is our friend? Sleeping?"

"Hopefully."

"He seemed to wear himself out once we got back."

"Honestly I am relieved he started his outburst finally –" Peter mumbled to the room.

"He held a vacant look in his eyes, and was too quiet for my liking." Drax added, clenching his worn fists to control his temper.

Peter growled and hit the counter with his fist, "If that fucker broke our friend, I will kill him myself."

"Or at least make it so he'll never be able to use his pelvic sorcery on another female again." Gamora growled lowly.

Peter looks over at Gamora, seriousness etched over her lovely features and he allows himself a fond smile, both at the choice of words and her undeniable devotion to them all.

"Agreed."

There was a comfortable silence as the three friends stood together in the room.

Then Drax spoke up, "We should attempt to rejuvenate ourselves. It may be a trying day."

The others look up at him and nod.

Without exchanging words, everyone departs to their own quarters for the rest of the evening.

* * *

She woke up within three hours of arriving back at Berk's estate. Stretching and groaning, she sits up and drags her hands down her face; groaning again. After a sigh, she heaved herself up and hopped to the floor, hearing her little friend scurrying to her side of the room.

"Want breakfast?! I made it today!" the kid yells excitedly (and much too loudly) before childishly grasping her arm and all but dragging her into a medium-sized room filled with too many people.

Within seconds, she's pushed into a seat at some table with three Krylorians and a guardsman, flirting with said Krylorian gals.

Letting out a yawn, her long tongue rolling out of her mouth, and exposing her small, sharp, pointed teeth. When she finished she blinked lazily and looked down to see a coffee and…

"What is this?"

Tan, looked surprised (and a little hurt) at his new friend.

"Blueberry pancakes! They are good! Everyone likes them!"

The guardsman at the table interjected, "Yea, kid does alright sometimes."

"I do 'alright' _all_ the time Tin-Roh." He glares playfully at the man and sticks out his tongue petulantly. The good-natured guardsman just chuckles at the kid before standing up to leave the table, taking his coffee with him.

The archer looks down at her food and cuts off a small piece, tentatively placing it in her mouth and chewing.

"It's good." She finally says, after seeing that the boy was holding his breath.

Tan positively beams, smile so bright and infectious that the monotonous archer just had to smile back at the boy. She then returned to her meal and Tan squeezed into the seat beside her. "Wow! I am taller than you even while sitting!"

She feigns a scowl and mimics the boy's earlier action, earning her a giggle from the sweet kid and a couple pets on the head. Fighting back a small little voice in her head telling her that this would not last, she decides to enjoy Tan's company, affections and tasty blue flat cakes.

After breakfast was over, she helped Tan clean up before he had to leave for other duties and errands for the day.

She follows him to the backdoor where he goes to leave the estate, but instead of opening the door and walking out, he drops to his knees in front of her and pulls her into a warm, friendly hug.

The archer was barely able to enjoy it before the kid pushes her away at arms length with a smile. "I'll see you when I get back Miss Archer! I have something to show you! I finished it last night!"

Then all too quickly he stands, grabs his satchel and jogs off.

"Bye!" she yells after him before reaching up to the door handle and shutting it.

_"Well, I've put it off long enough."_

With that thought in mind, she takes her sweet time strolling the series of cold, cement hallways to find her current employer.

* * *

Rocket wakes up early afternoon thinking he's dead. He groans and moans obnoxiously for the next ten minutes, which everyone knows is one of the requirements for getting over a long night of too much alcohol and gambling: A step that this particular raccoon never fails to miss.

Eventually, he is on the floor and working his way to the door, trying to hold back the urge to vomit.

Groot sleepily watches his best friend work his way out of the room, grumbling about stupid hangovers.

He's glad that his friend is acting normal today. With that last thought he falls back asleep.

* * *

Peter is idly walking around, trying to keep himself busy after making a pot of coffee. He was waiting for his best buddy to wake up so he could see how he was doing.

The slamming of a door and violent retching echoes down the hallway, and he makes a quarter-turn and eight paces. Then he is at the bathroom door, pushing it open slowly.

Rocket is hugging the toilet so close that it appears as if he intends to drown himself in it. Despite the circumstances, Peter can't help but chuckle at the scene.

A low, miserable growl echoes in the toilet bowl. "Fuck off _,_ asshole." Rocket sighs and drops himself to a proper sitting position next to the toilet after he reaches to activate the flushing mechanism.

A warm, wet cloth is plopped on his head and he reaches up to grab is off his head. Wiping his furry face and mouth before sending a glare over towards his idiotic (but thoughtful) friend.

"Shut off the fucking light in here and get me some goddam coffee."

Relief floods through Peter and he smiles uncharacteristically (for this situation) at his friend. "Sure thing pal. But take a shower first. You stink."

"Not as bad as your fucking socks Star-dork." Rocket grumbles as he stands up and wobbles over to the shower.

Peter grins as he shuts the door.

His friend will be okay.

* * *

After they all ate and finished the coffee pot, well… after _Rocket_ finished the coffee, the day so far was normal. The other three were very happy that their friend didn't seem to remember the verbal lashing he received the other night.

"What the heck is _wrong_ with you all today? Did I do something stupid last night? Or are you all on some happy-pill I don't fucking know about. And if it is that, you better fucking share."

They all just continue their upbeat moods as the day continues.

It is late afternoon when Rocket decides he's sick of his friends' moronic smiling and marches off to walk around the streets, hoping to find some parts he needs for a few upgrades he has been planning.

* * *

Berk rises from his large desk and approaches the small, unassuming archer.

"Interesting… so the Pink Ladies and the Centar Merc Band were there…"

"The warehouse appeared to belong to the Centars." She responds smoothly.

"Of course. How would _Krylorians_ have enough resources to get something like that."

She doesn't respond and just waits for Berk to continue his mussing.

"So my suspicions about internal corruption are correct." Here, he turns to once again acknowledge his freelancer.

"… it seems like I will have to do some house cleaning –" he growls lowly.

"I know of one. I can point out others if I am allowed to investigate. Any who are missing today – they are dead or injured."

"Do that then. I want a list before you go." He looks down at her collar as he walks behind her, noticing a small, dull, blinking red light.

"Is that a tracking device?" he shoves a large digit at the back of her thick collar.

Taken off guard, she cringes before answering lowly.

"Yes."

He barks out a hearty laugh at her grouchy response. "It shows a surprising amount of loyalty… or fear… towards your crew if you have allowed it to remain there."

"I cannot remove it." she responded, her face turning to stone.

Berk hums before walking back to his desk and lowering himself into his chair, his greyish blue fingers forming a steeple in front of him. "If I hire you from him for another job, I want that disabled."

She allows herself a spiteful chuckle, "Yea, just try to convince Jack to permit it."

"Miss Archer, you should know that when needed I can be very… convincing." He replies arrogantly.

She just watches him, her tail twitching infuriatingly, anxious to leave the room and his scrutiny.

"You are dismissed. Make me a list of the staff members involved in the meantime. I will personally call you to my office to hand in your final notes and observations."

She nods, jumping down off the lavish chair she was perched in and strides out of the large office, deciding to take a non-official tour of the estate.

* * *

A wolf-whistle can be heard as Rocket gazes at a merchant's spread down in one of the several black-market-type bazars of Knowhere.

"Like what'cha see, stranger?" the slimy creature behind the make-shift counter hisses at the strange, furry critter. A malicious sneer pulling across his face as he eyes his potential customer.

"Gotta good assortment goin' on here. Just what I'm lookin' for – how's 200?"

"Those pieces are _very_ difficult to come by, it will cost you much more than _200 credits_. And these are the only ones around this end of the galaxy."

"Well grease-ball, I happen to know that a good quarter of these items will break apart after their initial use because they are cheaply-made replicas. This is the only decent shit you have here – I will go 270 and no more." The raccoon smirks, knowing he's gotten his way before the other creature even responds.

With a malicious snarl, the merchant looks around to see if anyone has heard before snatching the credit chit out of Rocket's small hand, completing the purchase. It nearly throws the chit back in his face, "No leave _thing._ I don't want to see you at my stand again…. _clear?_ "

Rocket smirks and nearly skips off with his purchase, "Of _course_ not. You have a lovely day you disgusting, greasy bastard."

He hears the thing growl, spit and hiss in anger as he grins, disappearing into the crowd.

Within minutes he caught sight of the establishment he and his team were unwinding at last night and decided to stroll on in, seeing that it was mostly empty. He climbed up onto a metal barstool, unceremoniously dumping his recent purchase on the table before yelling at the bartender to get him some hard stuff.

The Krylorian girl just crinkles her nose at him and struts off to make the rude little man his order.

After he downed his second drink, he lazily looked around the near-empty gambling club. It appeared they were setting up for the evening betting pool.

All of the sudden, he feels his tail being yanked on and he panics, fur standing on edge as he sucks in a breath. The action, as usual, causes a bolt pain shooting up his spin and to the tip of his small nose. He's about to lose it on the mother who dares to-

"What the hell! That fucking hurt you ass!" Rocket glared and growled angrily as he spun around in his seat to get a look at the offender.

Two, large eyes stared up at him innocently, "You have a tail! And it's soft!" a blondish kid shouted at him excitedly.

Rocket had no response to that. At all.

"Uhh…"

"What's your name?"

He doesn't answer. He just watches in silence as the kid clambers up to take a seat on the stool beside him.

"Karino! I have something for you!"

One of the bar maids, who reminded Rocket of Gamora walked over towards the boy, "Thanks kiddo. I'll be right back."

He takes this chance to ignore the strange kid to finish his drinking.

"So? Mr. Gun-man?"

Rocket furrows his brow and gives the kid an inquiring look, "Mr… Gun-man?"

"Yea! Did you make that!" He points to the large weaponry strapped to his small back. Rocket shifts before taking it off and laying it out on the bar, "Yes I did! This is one of the best shooters you'll see 'round these parts kid."

The boy's eyes brighten in excitement, "That's so cool! I have this friend who makes their own weapons too! She's really good at it, but doesn't like me touching her stuff." He bites the inside of his cheek before reaching towards the large device laid out on the table.

Rocket grins, feeling very smug and happy at the prospect of being able to brag about his genious devices and modifications as he goes on to show the kid how it worked and regailing a few stories of some of his prison escapes.

The kid beamed the entire time. Neither noticed that an hour had gone by.

"Hey kid," a gruff, hairy man behind the counter grouches, "it's getting' late and you need to scat – don't you have runs to do? Get outta here."

"Yes sir, bar-man sir!" The blonde kid salutes and hops off his stool, dropping to the ground with his messenger bag.

"Bye Mr. Gun-maker! Thank you for showing me all the cool stuff!"

"Hey kid! Take this." Rocket leaps off his stool, throwing a tip on the bar before turning to the kid and handing him a small device.

"Just point this at any bastard who tries to kick you around and it'll put him down for ya."

"Really?! This is for me?!"

Rocket barks out an obnoxious laugh, enjoying the sprit in the other's eyes.

"Ya kiddo. Don't know why a lil' guy like you is stuck in this hell-hole… so just stay outta trouble, ya hear?" He slaps the kid on the back and then starts walking away, hearing the boy shout –

"I'm not little! I'm taller than you bushy-tail!"

He lets out another laugh and waves behind him at the kid who grins back before dashing off into the filthy low-lives that make up the population of Knowhere.

Definitely no place for a kid.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

She's sitting high up in the ceiling, brown cargos covering her furry, dangling legs when she hears a door slam, and hurried footsteps skittering down the hallway.

Upon looking down she sees Tan rushing towards Berk's office, knowing he must be late.

Gathering the list she was working on, the made her way back to the floor, and slipped into the servant's quarters to wait for the boy's return.

About ten minutes pass by until she hears Tan loudly entering the room. She watches as he surveys the room. Standing up she watches him until he meets her gaze with a smile and an enthusiastic wave.

She spins around to hide a smile, picking up her things and meeting the boy at the door.

"How was your day Miss Archer?"

She responds by tilting her head to the side and giving the sweet kid a gentle smile.

"Fine, Tan. Yours? You are late."

"Ah! I know! I know! Master Berk wasn't too happy, but he seemed busy so I'm not in trouble today!" He takes his new friend's hand in his and carts the small creature off into the hallway and heads outside.

"I want to show you something! Remember that little box-puzzle you gave me? I think I opened it!"

The kid continues on, rambling excitedly about the box, and then about meeting some 'cool gun maker' on one of his errands.

She just stumbles after the kid, in slight astonishment. The kid was smart, she knew that much…

But how many kids his age should be able to solve a Rubik's cube?

" – And then he gave he a cool gun-thingy and said –" he stops his jabbering and his tracks, causing his poor little friend to run into his back and fall on her fluffy arse.

"Okay! Here we are!" He then releases the archer from his grip and pulls out a large rock from the structure of the estate and behind the block was a box. A box which he drug out of the hole, and opened before her.

"I keep all my important things in here. I don't like keeping them with me inside. I'm afraid the maids will think it's junk and throw it all away." He answers her un-asked question as he fishes inside for the cube-device she had given him days ago.

"See!" He twists it one more time and it opens, presenting a small, orange and silver ring which he reverently set in his lap after returning the puzzle cube back to his treasure box.

"So what is this Miss Archer? You made the puzzle box thing too, right?"

She looks up at the young boy, pride for the kid swelling in her chest, "Yes. I did make it. I made it to protect this. " She reaches a paw towards the kids lap and picks up the charm.

"A ring? Is there anything special about it?" he inquires eagerly, leaning forward towards his friend, paying apt attention to what she will say next.

After a fond chuckle passes her lips, she looks up into the kids' curious gaze with her own sparkling, watery one, "This… this ring is… special." She reaches for the kids and and slips it over his thumb.

"If you are ever in trouble, and need me to come for you, just turn the ring counter-clockwise until the lines match up."

He looks at it in awe and she tugs as his hand to bring his eyes back to hers, "Now Tan," she starts sternly, "this is for emergencies only, okay? This is not a toy."

Nodding at her, the kid looks back down at his hand resting in the small paws of his new friend.

"Does… does this mean you are leaving, Miss Archer?"

Her gaze softens at the boy as she watches tears begin to well up in his eyes. Dropping his hand she shifts closer to the kid, climbing into his lap and giving him a warm hug, nuzzling the side of his face when she hears him sniffle.

"As much as I don't want to… yes."

He hiccups and pulls his furry friend closer, burying his face into her furry neck as she pats him on the back of his head, "It'll be okay sweetie." She says softly to the boy.

"N-no it won't… they'll hurt you –" he chokes on a sob as he tries to finish, "I don't want that to happen to you again!"

She closes her eyes and lets the boy hold her as he continues to sob, hot tears soaking her fur.

* * *

After Tan had calmed down, the both silently began to put everything back into its place inside the wall. She stands to go inside when she notices the boy still kneeling by the stone blocks, looking down at his knees.

"Run away." The boy whispers softly, determination in his tone.

She watches him, her white brows lifting in surprise and uncertainty.

"Tan…?"

He stands up and makes his way over to her, grabbing her small shoulders.

"Run away. You can't go back there. I won't _let_ you." He says firmly, glaring at her – his decision made.

Returning a sorrowful look she shakes her head, "Tan I can't –"

"Yes, you can! I will help you!"

Sapphire eyes begin to water as she looks up at the boy, trying to figure out how to convince him that it won't happen; she's tried before.

"Tan, I –"

"That collar thing you have. That's the problem right? I broke the remote, he can't control you anymore, so –"

"He'll still find me, Tan."

The kid makes fists at his sides, shaking slightly in anger, "No. I will hide you. I can help you!"

"Tan, that won't do it – "

"Then I'll take off that stupid collar! And I'll help you leave this place! Get you on a ship or something! I know my way around this place. We can make a plan!"

"Tan, keep your voice down –"

"I'll sneak into Berk's supply room and get tools to get that off you, then I'll smuggle you to the ship-decks and we'll pick – "

"Ah. There you are, miss archer."

They both freeze.

Her blood runs cold. Fear for the boy rushes through her veins as she dares to avoid Berk's gaze.

Tan looked like he was about to grovel, but he surprised them both by stepping up to the large man.

"I'm helping miss archer leave."

A sinister look crosses his face, "Are you now? You know she's not your pet."

The boy growls at him.

"She can't go back there. I won't let her get hurt anymore. She's not their pet! And she will have that collar off tonight!" he yells defiantly up at him.

She's too shocked to interject.

There is a silence before Berk glares down at the boy and moves forward.

It's then that she springs into action.

"Don't you fucking touch him." She growls menacingly, startling both Berk and the kid.

A few moments pass as he regards the small creature and his young charge's bravery. " _It just might be worth intervening…"_ he smirks before turning around with a swish of his large cloak.

"Retrieve your final report and come to my office, both of you." They stare at his back in shock. Tan recovers quickly though –

"I'll make it up to you, Sir. I promise."

Another moment of silence before a gruff voice replies, "We'll see what we can do."

Tan smiles and starts after his master, while the poor, red, furry archer is tries to decide if this is all _really_ happening.

When they are out of sight she snaps back to reality.

_"If this works, I know exactly what I need to do."_ With newfound determination, she marches off to follow them.

* * *

Rocket whistles as he returns to the Milano, strolling towards the common area to strew his new purchases over the recently de-cluttered table.

"I just cleaned that you ass!"

Snickering, Rocket ignores his friend and begins modifications to the huge gun on his back.

Peter watches Rocket from the other side of the room as he hums to himself happily while working. "What'd you drink, sunshine and rainbows?"

Grinning, he looks up at Peter then smirks, "No. Just got recognized for my awesome mechanical genius skills, which you all take for granted." He snickers again when he sees Peter roll his eyes in exasperation before leaving the room.

He passes Gamora on his way to the kitchen.

"What is he so happy about?" she asks, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

"His fucking guns." Peter mumbles. Gamora looks over her should at Drax behind her and smirks; her tattooed friend returns a smile.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Tan… we don't have the time –"

"Then we'll just have to remove that stupid tracking device."

Her white brows draw together in a scowl, starting to get frustrated with the boy's persistence.

"I have _tried_ to do that already, it _won't work._ " She insists.

"That's because it was designed that way." A deeper male voice enters the dark storage room.

She spins on her booted heels and shoots a glare up at Berk. "I thought you were 'leaving us to it.'" She spat at the gigantic grey man. He just chucks darkly and glides past her, over to his charge.

"I don't like to be too nice… but I have found a way to disable it."

Now Tan looks up at his master expectantly from his kneeling position by a borrowed tool box and grins.

"I knew you were researching."

"Don't make me regret helping you kid… so don't get mushy. Just take this." Berk hands over a sheet to the kid and he looks them over.

"You've been bugging me about helping out with operations and engineering. I am only doing this for you to prove to me that you can possibly be more than just an errand boy."

The archer looks over at the boy in surprise. Well… she wasn't _too_ surprised. She supposes a man such as Berk would have recognized the boy's intelligence by now. How many years has Tan been working for him? Three?

He bows his head, his hair covering his face to hide a smile; but she see's it (because she doesn't tower over him like that stupid monstrous giant of a boss he has).

"I won't let you down, sir."

"You wouldn't be letting me down. It's your little friend here that would pay the price for any mistake, should you make one. This particular black-market slave collar is as tricky as it is inhumane."

Tan nods and begins to study the information Berk had gathered. The archer just stands there quietly, watching the boy. Her heart was starting to beat fast. Everything started to feel… surreal.

Would she really be able to get away from the trap she had fallen into, and start a life anew elsewhere? Could she finally live normally… at least as normal as she could ever possibly hope to be now.

All these things were racing through her head, but were silenced when Tan spoke up.

"With these tools I can't get that collar off you… "

Her heart plummets, but there's a seedling of hope for at least _something._

"I can't disable to tracking device either…"

Her ears drop, but she doesn't have the chance to get angry because Tan continues.

"But I _can_ remove it…" he looks up and smiles at his friend, seeing her little fists clench as she shakes with frustration.

_"He's lucky he's cute, otherwise I'd kick the snot outta that brat. Pulling my leg like that."_

Berk barks out a laugh, "Taking after your boss, I like it." He bends over and ruffles the kid's hair fondly. "I have matters to attend to. And Tan?"

"Yes sir."

"She's to be out of here tonight. I've already done too much here, the rest is on you."

"Of course sir."

And with that Berk was gone.

Tan heaves a heavy sigh and picks out the tools he'll need, "First thing's first… I need to get that out."

She just nods and moves to sit down in front of the kid. While he set to work carefully, his furry friend remained silent.

* * *

"Common Gam! One last night out!" Peter pleads, about to go on his hands and knees when his raccoon friend falls to his and tugs on their green friend's leather boots.

" _Please Gamora!"_

Oh geez. Gamora rolls her eyes. He dares to pull that look … she slides her gaze over to Peter and sees the same look on him.

Scowling she shakes Rocket off of her boot and yanks Peter up by his collar, pinning him with a cold stare.

"If I let you three lugs go out and get shit-faced, I am not to see any alcohol in this place for weeks. _Got it._ " She growls out the last part.

The guys cheer, not really paying attention to the last part as Drax claps his hands and leads the way out, Rocket in tow and Peter following not too far behind. However, Peter stops at the door and looks back at his female friend and crush before walking back over to her.

She looks up at him suspiciously, but her gaze softens when she meets his eyes. "You want to come too?" Lifting a brow, she gives him a 'what do you think?' look, which was expected, because next he smiles brightly, throwing her off kilter for a second.

"Common… I promise to watch myself and Rocket if you wanna let loose a little." He pauses to gage her reaction: A quizzical look… nothing negative so far, so he continues –

"Gam…" he carefully reaches for her hands and holds them in his own, now making the usually very stoic assassin blush a dark purple, "I know we have been difficult lately, especially me and Rocket with our antics, and that you always feel like you have to babysit us –"

"- that's because I _do._ "

Peter looks up from her hands and gives her a childish scowl, "I'm trying to be thoughtful and stuff. You're ruining it."

Gamora allows herself a victorious smile.

The moment is then shattered with a wolf whistle coming from the outside.

"Hurry up with your sappy rainbow shit and get out here so I can show you how a real man is supposed to act Star-Dork!" Rocket quips, before marching off cackling at his own jokes.

Drax just scowls a little, "I do not appreciate the delay. Let us drink and be merry!" he punches his right hand with his left fist, looking more like he's getting pumped for a fight rather than a night out at the bar… which could very well turn into one here on Knowhere.

Peter's face flushes and his scowl deepens as he shoots daggers over his shoulders at his two best friends; mainly at Rocket's retreating bushy tail.

He's going to kick his furry ass. He swears it.

Or maybe one day he'll just hide all his toys…

Yea. That sounds like a good plan. Maybe then he could pin it on Drax…

_"Two birds. One stone."_

His deviously awesome plans are cut off when Gamora pulls at his hands to get his attention. Once she has it she shoots him a smirk, dropping his hands and walking past him out the door, hips swaying.

"Let's go Starlord. You owe me a drink, remember?"

Peter grins and jogs after his friends, hastily closing and locking up the _Milano._

* * *

"Almost done." Tan relays quietly to his friend as he carefully manipulates the wires and attempts to dislodge and disconnect the device without error, "It's so small… I'm lucky I have small fingers. Can't imagine Berk or his goons trying to do anything like this."

Silence falls over the pair again, only the noise from within the complex and the tinkering of tools and wires coming from the back of her neck could be heard in the large, shadowed room.

The quiet is broken as the archer carefully sighs, ensuring not to disturb Tan's progress with her collar, "Even if we get this off, it's still operational. When he comes to find me he'll know I escaped and I won't be far enough away. If it was shut off –"

"He'd be alerted immediately." The boy answers distractedly, "Berk is contacting him, telling him that he needs you for the rest of this week. That'll give you plenty of time to get some distance. If he becomes suspicious, I plan on sending the tracker out somewhere to set him on a chase, which by that point you'll be long gone. Also, according to the job description he gave Jack and his gang, they may not all make it out of their next 'big score' alive or unscathed. This will work, Miss Archer –"

There was a click, an electric snapping sound, followed by a slight jerk to her collar.

She stiffens; her entire body perks up as she feels Tan pull away from her. With wide, blue eyes she turns around and looks up at the kid, who's grinning brighter than the thousand-watt bulb hanging above them in the small, storage room.

" –Trust me."

* * *

His band and their new freelancers were all getting to know one-another by attempting to drink each other under the tables. The large, stuffy room was filled with burly and sour types who just made the room feel that much more crowded.

Jack couldn't shake off an odd feeling about this upcoming job. He knew he'd most likely lose some of his team, and he will definitely lose most of the freelancers, but Berk was making the offer too good to back down from.

Essentially, they were starting an underground war; at least that's what it felt like to the bandleader. Grunting, Jack downs the rest of his jug and slams it on the table. Just as one of his 'new recruits' walks past he roughly pulls them over.

"Get me two more of these. Now." He demands. The guy nods quickly and scurries off to carry out the request. Groaning, he rubs at his face with his grubby, soiled, callused hands.

Berk wanted two of the major smuggling 'companies' to be eliminated, later that day, he added on the elimination of some recent 'start-up' group of criminal Krylorians.

He couldn't help but laugh at that as well as feel sick. Being known as one of the more ruthless bounty hunters and mercenary leaders in the lower east side of Knowhere, even he had some issues: Krylorians were one of them. Even in past raids, if he could spare the sodding gals he did. Few of his team knew this, and he wanted it to stay that way.

Regardless, he was more worried about a thrown-together group taking down two of the larger merc and smuggling groups around – simultaneously.

The point of the operation, for Berk, was to eliminate them both at the same time by invading their bases, opening up trade for him and two of his allies who were supposedly funding this expedition of sorts. From dealing with the groups, and hearing about their defenses, he knew it was going to be a bloodbath.

What bothered him was why he couldn't shake off the reason why that was bothering him so damn much.

His drinks are replaced in front of him. He growls and starts into one of the large mugs, venting his frustration with his situation using a large fist to the solar-plexus of the poor sod who delivered his order, leaving him gasping on the ground like a terrain sea-creature.

* * *

_"This is really going to work…"_

She looks over at Tan, the boy she had grown close to over the past few days. The kid had a big heart, and had talent for his age, as he peeked around the corner.

She just hoped the Berk recognized that; and in the event that he didn't, she made sure to include it in a postscript at the bottom of the list she hid in his desk drawer; having picked the lock.

The thought still has her feeling quite smug. He'll probably make himself up a new combination.

"We can go now Miss Archer, common." Grabbing her arms he pulls her across the deserted road and down another alley, heading towards the tunnels.

"Tan, slow down just a bit." She puffed as he slowed to a brisk walk. He looks down at her and smiles, "You are pretty little, you know that?" he grins.

She does just the opposite, "Yea, but I can still kick your butt into next week." Tan giggles and she returns a smile. The kid could be a brat, but she cared for him all the same.

About five minutes of walking, they were at the tunnels, she reaches out for the boy's grubby hand and pulls him to a stop.

"Tan, I will go from here. You should be heading back, it's not safe."

"But what if you need help? I wanted to help you get on the ship and –"

"You can't come with me, Tan. You know that. Please… stay here… and be safe. Remember what I told you." She looks up at him, and she can see his eyes start to mist over.

"…But –" he protests weakly.

"You've done enough, Tan." She smiles and hugs him, "If I can, I will try to call you sometime. Take care, okay?" On her tip-toes she nuzzles his jaw before backing away.

He returns a watery smile and blushes slightly, "You too Miss Archer."

"Now go, Tan. I'll watch you go, okay?"

They hear a group of thugs about to turn down the road they were in. They shared one, last quick hug before Tan dashes off into the darkness. Back into the streets of Knowhere.

She backs herself up into the shadows as the men pass by, recognizing a few of them from her mercenary group.

_"More like prison… which I am away from for the moment."_

When the coast is clear, she disappears into the tunnels, repeating the directions Tan had given her to the ship-deck.

Hopefully she'll find a suitable one to stowaway on.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_"Finally, I made it…"_

Her heart leaps into her throat when she was almost spotted, cursing herself over and over in her head for not being more careful.

The shipping docks were not as deserted as she'd hoped. Growling softly to herself, she takes some time to look around – charting herself a path in shadows.

Finding one, she heads off to get a better view of the area. Her ears twitched in nervous determination.

_"I need to treat this like a mission, and not let this adrenaline get to my head."_

About two hours passed as she watched in the shadows, eventually starting to develop a planned route, having picked a target. Now she just needed to get to it, and by the look of things, she was going to have a chance here soon.

She was right, as the traffic started to slow down, and there were less eyes about the streets. Having already picked a route, she set off, trying her best to keep as quiet as possible; thankful that she had packed all of her gear tight to limit its noise.

Once she was among the ships, she felt the adrenaline and the fear start to fade, until it disappeared altogether. There were plenty of shadows here for her to travel in. She would not be spotted. Looking around, she gathered her bearings and started to make her way to a sleek, medium-sized blue ship with orange detailing.

_"It's kind of stupid I just picked this one because it looked pretty…"_ she smirked as it was in sight finally. She kept a keen eye on the ship as she meandered about in the shadows, looking for a discrete way in. The archer even went as far as to pull out a thermo-scanner (which of course would not help her detect any cold-blooded passengers inside, but she didn't think those ugly things would have enough class or style to travel around in such a beauty.

_"If I was a lesser person, I would just take it."_ Entertaining herself with the thought, she reviewed the scanner results.

No one was inside.

A grin splits her patterned face in two.

Perfect.

* * *

Roar after roar of laughter leaves the bar as the crowd of misfits, including our favorite guardians, mock the poor, disheveled Zandorian oaf who just lost an arm wrestling match to the slim and beautifully green Zehoberi woman who remained silent, only her brow ridges betraying her self-satisfaction. An Aaskvarian woman, who was beyond wasted, clapped a tentacle on her shoulder, offering to buy the next round for her and her crew.

Gamora grimaced but allowed it, trying to be polite.

Man those things were terrifying. How the hell did they reproduce?

Making a face… she decides she doesn't want to know.

The crowd around her entertain themselves elsewhere, only her friends coming to approach her.

Peter laughs good-naturedly. "What is with that look on your face?!" The green woman drops her twisted look of repulsion into a frown, looking up at Peter expectantly.

"I won. I believe Rocket owes us." She smirks.

"Yes, the bastard does! He's drowning his sorrows at the bar right now." He laughs again and drops himself beside his friend. "He's such a sore loser!"

Raising an eyebrow, she shoots Peter a look, "You and your odd terrain sayings. How do losers hurt?"

Peter sighs and shakes his head, "Just never mind."

"Hm."

Just then, four drinks were dropped off at their table, "Two from the tentacle chick and two on the house for you princess, you totally kicked Akbar's ass right there. Thank you for that! Bastard needed to be knocked down a few pegs." The burly, good-natured barman barked out.

"A _few_ _pegs_?! That bitch shoved him off the fucking building!" the table behind them roared up in drunken laughter and just _this time_ … she allows the word to fly.

After all, she _was_ one tough bitch.

Smirking, she clinks her drink with Peter and they down their glasses in one go.

* * *

Finally inside, she made sure that the owners wouldn't expect an intruder by covering her tracks (not that she left any, but she _did_ have to reset the lock).

The sly gal, however, had to restrain herself from making a few… modifications… to the nearly nonexistent security measures. Picturing the look on the faces of the owners as they tried to re-enter their ship after a night out entertained her for a good hour as she found a place to stash her things along with their storage crates in the small hull in the back of her free ride.

After dusting herself off, grumbling about the inhabitants' need to clean the damn place once in awhile, she set off to wander. Figuring she had about an hour or two before the crew returned. Hopefully they were leaving soon; otherwise she'd have to find another way off this damn place.

As she walked around, canvasing the different rooms, she noticed minor things: such as weaponry scattered about the floor in a few areas, along with partially assembled explosives, which made her wince. She had to stop herself from disabling them further to give her a piece of mind.

She was admiring one weapon in particular when her small stomach let out an obnoxiously loud, angry growl. Laughing under her breath, she carefully set the marvelous piece of machinery she was examining onto the makeshift couch before wandering around the ship, hoping to find a galley, kitchenette or some sort food accommodations (hopefully they were edible).

Upon finding said place, a small kitchen with an interesting makeshift table off in one corner, and after having looked through some of the cupboards and shelves, with the help of some pre-existing makeshift step-stools, the ruddy-red furry critter had gathered herself two bags of chips, three pieces of fruit and a bottled beverage.

When her make-shift meal was done, she decided she'd wandered around enough and started to head back to her hiding spot, however, upon passing one of the hallways, her sensitive ears picked up a movement coming from one of the rooms.

Stiffening, she sniffed at the air. Nothing had alerted her that something else could be in this place with her. Eyes narrowing, she carefully sets down the bag of chips she had in her arms and lowers herself to the ground. Knowing that this was her best chance at not being detected immediately.

Making no movement whatsoever, she waits and listens. The rustling is soft, but it doesn't sound like it's moving closer to her position. She's about to rise and hurry back to her hideout when she hears a soft whimper.

Now she held her breath and narrowed her eyes. The whimpering sound was made again, and it sounded distressed. She bares her teeth, not daring to make any sound as she slowly stalks down the dark hallway, approaching a partially open door where the sound was emitting from.

_"If these guys are slavers or kidnappers, I will execute them all, and pilot this ship myself."_

Simultaneously cursing herself for picking a slaver ship and glad that she was able to help the poor thing on this craft, she slowly approaches the opening and slips inside the softly lit room.

Scanning the room, she spots a small… tree…? Forgetting herself, she just stares dumbfounded at the plant. Upon spotting her, it returns her gaze, but with a scowl.

Then the thing speaks.

"Groot." It grunts. She's momentarily surprised, but not at all frightened. She slowly approaches the pot keeping the large plant stationary, but stops just outside of its' reach upon seeing it move around.

She cocks her head to the side and blinks. Not wanting to speak to it, hopefully it will not see her as a threat.

Its' scowl turns into a look of confusion. "Groot?"

They exchange blinks. Upon seeing the plant-creature start to relax, she scoots a little closer to it, before tentatively reaching out her paw.

The plant smiles, startling her as it slinks a branch into her paw and wraps around her wrist gently.

"Am Groot!" it says excitedly.

She smiles at it, making a shaking motion with her arm.

The moment is broken as her ears twitch violently.

Voices outside. Loud and raucous.

It was time to hide.

Standing up, she gently pets the branch on her arms and it lets her go. She smiles and waves goodbye to the cute plant and watches as it mimics her action.

After that she disappears to the back of the ship.


	14. Chapter 14

There is a loud clang that echoes throughout the ship as the drunken gang throws open the metal door and stumble inside, laughter bellowing through the hull of their beloved _Milano_.

"Maaaaan that was a nic-sh nigh' eh fellas?" Rocket slurs and grins stupidly up at his companions. Drax nearly rocks the room off-kilter with his deep, booming laugh, "I believe you have had more than your share of spirits my formidable opponent!"

Peter claps Drax on the shoulder as Gamora brushes past them, heading further into the ship, trying to hold back a smile at her friends' antics, "Drax is right, you nearly had him beat in that round, Rocket man! Where does it all _go!_ "

The boys laugh as they soon stumble after each other, heading towards their sleeping quarters.

"Hold up you guys."

She stands with her hands planted firmly on her hips, waiting for the men to slowly process the request. Eventually they were all facing her direction.

"We can't afford another day's docking fair here, so we have to leave before morning patrol." She informs them firmly, scanning which one of the three boys will be able to assist her (or at least keep her company) without passing out in the next twenty-or-so minutes.

Rocket was out, as he had just landed on his fluffy tail… giggling as he laid down with a sigh – she swears if he falls asleep on them right there in the middle of the floor, that she would _not_ be responsible if he was… _accidently_ stepped on.

Right. So that left the other two. At seeing the twinkle of mischief in Peter's blue eyes and knowing what that stupid, drunken grin splitting his face in half meant for her – she made her decision.

"Drax. You'll help me, since you seem to be… slightly less intoxicated," she looks down at Rocket who's giggling along with Peter, "and can at least _stand_ without falling over."

"That sounds reasonable, female. I will accompany you to the steering room."

Gamora tries not to smile at Drax's phrasing, but the other two beat her to it by bursting out in uncontrollable cackles.

Shaking her head she nods towards them, "Get your asses to bed. If I find you out here later I'll step on you – Rocket."

"Whaaaaaat…. So mean Gammy."

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes and stomps out of the room, Drax looking frightful behind her as Peter joins Rocket on the floor, gasping for air.

"He… he…. You…. HAHAHA!" he forces out, wheezing he finishes, "You called her _Gammy_!" Peter wheezes again as he tries to catch a breath.

"Dude! You are _so_ dead!"

* * *

Rocket was finally able to rise to his hands and knees beside Peter before dropping on the floor again.

Eventually they calmed down, by this time they were more aware of their surroundings, and looking out the few window panes, they could see the starlit expanse of space.

With a sigh, Peter climbs to his feet, swaying only a little before addressing Rocket, "Hey man, we gotta get to bed. Gamora's gunna kill us if we don't help her steer tomorrow."

Groaning, Rocket follows Peter – slowly, "Man… I'm going to have to fill Groot in later." The raccoon tries to pull a smile but it doesn't quite work.

"Hey man, he's already getting pretty big. He'll get those trunks you call his _legs_ working here soon, then he'll not miss out on anything…. And maybe even save your sorry arse from those butt-whoopings you've been accumulating."

Rocket barks out a laugh but then groans and holds his head, "Dude, shut up and don't make me laugh – fuckin' hurts like _hell_."

Peter chuckles, groans then waves Rocket off as he heads to his own room, leaving Rocket at his and Groot's.

Rocket goes to lean against the door only to fall inside. Groaning he crawls across the room and up to his small bed beside Groot in his pot, "Hey buddy, 'm tired. Talk 'morrow, 'kay?"

"Groot!"

"Heh… night."

With that, Rocket passes out and falls into a dreamless slumber with a smile resting on his face.

* * *

_"Oh geez… how much did those sorry bastards consume?"_ rolling her eyes, she attempts to ignore the conversations and laughter that made its' way to the back of the ship, up in the high storage space she had herself crammed in.

Instead, she tries to entertain herself by picturing what kind of beings were on the vessel with her – she already knew of one thing for sure…

They had a shit-load of guns and ammo. Perhaps a little too much for her cup of tea.

_"Some of the explosives were quite impressive… I'll have to nick one on my way out. Maybe I can use it to concentrate the blast radius with my explosive ammo and arrows…"_

Staring up at metal ceiling, which was too close to her face if you asked her, she began to think back on the past nights – primarily her action-packed adventure; she made a note to herself to avoid thinking about leaving Tan behind.

She had to admit that the group Berk had chosen to intervene was a rather… peculiar bunch. Definitely not suspicious-looking, but definitely identifiable.

There was a Terrain, she had seen one before… but it was dead. A 'cadaver' Dr. Rensington had called it. She scrunches up her nose at the memory – recalling the stench.

Wrenching her thoughts away from that dark place, she chose to narrow in on the others – there was a quite large, muscular man who had a grey-green complexion (similar to Berk's grey-blue) that had crimson tattoos all over his face, arms hands and torso. He was definitely of a race she had never encountered before, that's for certain.

Speaking of races, she was surprised to see a Zehoberi female – she had thought the genocide caused by the mysterious Thanos had wiped them off the galactic map. She did not think they were a culture to colonize elsewhere, outside of their home world.

_"But then look at me."_ She smirks to herself.

Her face softens as she recalls one particular individual who had caught her interest. A being similar to herself, who talked like herself –

_"A furry freak like me, who kicked ass in an orange jumpsuit."_ She smiled to herself, pulling up the memory of him sliding across the floor with a weapon the size of himself, handling it like it was nothing.

Seeing him going against those odds, seeing that man as small as he was, despite his looks, limitations and differences; he had a group of other aliens, unlike himself, who treated him well, and who watched his back in a fight.

_"Friends."_

With that thought leading to further musing about her first friend in a long while, Tan… this hitchhiker finally dozes off into a light sleep, as she attempts to relax in the unfamiliar place.

* * *

"Alright, we are set for auto-pilot. Let's get some sleep Drax." Yawning, Gamora stretches out of her seat and trudges down the hallway.

"That would be most wise." Drax, yawning as well, straightens out the knifes he was sharpening, putting them away safely before following suit.

Eventually, all members of the Guardians of the Galaxy were in a deep, peaceful slumber.

Unbeknownst to the guardians, however… they had acquired themselves a furry, little hitchhiker onboard their lovely _Milano_.

One who was definitely _not_ expecting to meet _them._

But we know our lovely, comical and trustworthy guardians –

Nothing ever really goes according to plan.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

One-by-one, the guardians rise and trudge to the kitchenette for food and some much needed coffee.

Rocket's the last one to arrive, and he was also the crankiest.

"Star-Dork!" he barks at Peter, "Go get Groot." The raccoon then pulls himself up into his seat.

"Need… coffee…" groaning, he drops his head to the table.

Peter, rubbing at his temples, shoots Gamora a look before throwing daggers over his shoulder at his furry… very _annoying_ friend, "You do it."

"You really wanna get into this _now._ "

Gamora smirks, giving Peter a pointed look and gesturing towards the door.

"Yea Star Lord, go get him."

"I'm cooking, and unless you want _Gamora_ cooking again, I advise he waits, or Drax goes to fetch him."

Rubbing at his eyes Drax looks up from his mug of black coffee swill.

"Drax. Groot. Now." Rocket forces out before he allows the throbbing pain to overcome his focus once more.

Not even bothering to argue with the temporarily disabled raccoon, he leaves the room with a grunt – but not before pounding the table beside Rocket's head, startling him awake.

"I'M UP HOLY FUCK I'M UP!"

Gamora has the gall to laugh as Rocket slowly comes back to his senses and groans again before dropping his head back to the table.

Eventually, everyone is seated at the table, even Groot.

Well, _actually_ … Drax set Groot in Peter's chair as some sort of revenge, leaving Peter to lean against the wall and eat standing up while occasionally glaring at Drax when he wasn't looking.

"Um… dude… what's up with him?" Peter inquired around a mouthful of space-omelet.

Feeling slightly better with the assistance of pain meds, coffee and food, Rocket rolls his eyes candidly. "He's been all chipper all morning, humming. I have no idea what he's so goddamn _happy_ about."

"Well, we know he didn't get – Umf!" Peter tries not to crumble to the dirty floor when Gamora smacks him too close to the belt for comfort. Groaning, Peter narrows his eyes at her. She responds by lifting an eyebrow and resuming her eating, occasionally flipping through entries on her data pad

Rocket and Drax not even taking the bait for his immature jokes just roll their eyes.

Peter scowls at the group, "Okay, see… that eye-roll thing? It was mine. Stop taking it."

"It suits Gamora better."

"I have to agree with friend Rocket here."

Gamora accidently lets loose a snort of laughter and tries to hide a smile behind a cough.

They leave the subject alone for now.

Groot just looks at everyone, trying not to keep staring goofily at Rocket. Maybe he'd get to see his best friend feeling better again.

Said best friend catches Groot looking at him, humming and smiling – "I don't know what's got into him… but I can't help the feeling that he's planning something." Rocket narrows his beady brown eyes at Groot suspiciously. His friend just smile in return before looking over at Peter who began to speak.

"Groot knowing something we don't know… " Peter said thoughtfully.

"Doesn't sound unusual to me." Gamora quips.

Drax laughs before downing his third up of Joe that morning.

"Dude! _You_ are the reason we keep running out of coffee! Slow the fuck _down_! That shit's expensive to get all the way out here!"

"Your fault." Gamora jabs in with a wink as she passes the boys, leaving the room.

* * *

"Ugh…"

Shifting into a better position, her body screams and the pain jabs, telling her to freaking _stay still_.

Regardless, she softly grunts and sighs as she's able to switch from her back to her stomach. Her bleary blue eyes stare into the darkness of the storage space.

Hunger begins to gnaw at her insides as she spots the half-eaten bag of chips she snatched from the cupboards last night. Closing her eyes… she prepares herself for what she has to do.

Trying to concentrate on the chips, she slowly extends a dark brown, furry arm.

Not even close.

_"Damn. Guess I'm not eating for a bit."_

With that she drops her arm, closes her eyes, and lets herself listen, dazed, to the noises drifting back into her space from the rest of the ship.

A small smile crosses her face.

Finally… there is nobody there to wake her up for a damn job.

She can _sleep in._

_"Hallelujah."_

It's not long before soft sighs are falling out of her mouth as she slips back into sleep.

* * *

"Groot! Pay attention! Quit looking around the room like some paranoid son-ova-bitch." Rocket grouches at his friend who snaps his attention back to the board in front of them.

"I can't play with Drax as my partner again. I need to _win._ So learn!"

"Groot!"

"Try all you want man, you'll never win against me and Gamora."

"Maybe you should team up with Peter –"

"No _way_ am I going to have that maniac on my team, he's fucking _scary_."

"Yea well, you're just a pussy and can't take the pressure."

"You don't even know what that _means_ Rocket!"

"Then explain _Star-Dork_." Rocket shoots a challenging smirk at his friend.

Gamora, Drax and Groot watch Peter as he gapes like those sea creatures he usually talks about – not finding the words to return fire.

"Exactly."

"Put the board away you two – " she turns to catch Peter before he slinks out of the room, "And _you_ get to go and grab all the weapons and stuff Rocket's been kind enough to work on from the back. We are _all_ having a proper review this time. I'm not allowing another mistake like the last one to happen again."

"Nooooooo," Peter whines and trudges after the group's appointed 'boss,' "It's all dark and creepy and stuff back there!"

"And who made it that way?"

"The original _Milano_ was _destroyed_! None of this now can be solely pinned on _me._ " Peter protests vehemently.

Gamora stops and he nearly runs into her. He meets her gaze, sheepishly grinning down into her dark irises.

"Oh no… don't fall for that look Gamora! He's trying to butter you up!"

In a rare, semi-compassionate exchange, Gamora smiles at Peter, "You're right, so while he's busy groveling, _you_ can go back there."

Peter couldn't help himself, he spun around and shoves a finger down at the raccoon, "HA! It's _your_ machinery and ammo-shit anyways!"

"Which I make and modify for the better of the _team_." Rocket tries to argue, looking hopefully at Gamora.

Okay… this game was starting to get old now. These freaking guys are like _children_ –

Seeing Gamora start to lose it, Drax shoots out of his seat next to Groot, "I will get the supplies. Weaponry upgrades are important for a strong unit."

"Way to go man!"

"Hero!"

"And if I break anything, it's not on me."

"Yea, yea – just get the boxes and all the bags with the cool-looking stuff in it. I can show you all what I've got for ya." Rocket waves him off before stopping short again, grinning.

"Actually, _Peter_ … it might be best that you help him. I have a _lot_ of new toys for us to try out!"

Peter starts to open his mouth but is shoved forwards by a lithe, green hand.

"Okay, okay…" he mumbles as he strides out to join Drax.

Shaking her head Gamora glares at Rocket who's checking Groot's soil after giving him some water.

"You are all such babies. I don't know why you men have such an aversion to going back there –"

"Oh, we don't."

Gamora looks at Rocket puzzled, "then why …?"

"Because, if we can pin a chore on someone else, we will."

"… so you're all just…lazy…"

"Yup! Welcome to session one of 'understanding the male mind,' sweetheart!" Rocket quips before quickly exiting the room, "Be right back."

Poor Gamora just stands there and looks at Groot, "I have no response to that, do you?"

"Am Groot!"

She smiles.

* * *

There's a loud bang and the archer nearly leaps out of her pretty -red fur. Now sitting up, with panic seizing her chest, she strains her ears for…

Yup… footsteps.

She's no longer alone in the small, cramped space.

"Damn, why does he have so much of this stuff? How many boxes are we supposed to trudge out of here?" a whiney, male voice gripes.

"I believe he said 'everything.'" A gruff, lower toned voice adds before she hears the sound of shifting boxes and crates around her.

"Well, at least it's not _literally_ everything. Just all the cool stuff… which is like that entire fucking corner."

Hoping to slink around to get a view of the beings in the room with her, she cranes her neck to look around a box and squints her eyes.

Their backs were to her, and the light placement only allowed her to see silhouettes of the intruders.

_"Well… I'm the intruder I guess… at least they aren't wanting to disassemble my corner, I don't know how the hell I'd get to the others without being seen."_

Confident that the two men were busy, she chanced another movement in her cramped little space, back scraping the ceiling slightly as she attempts to slither closer to see what they were doing – and when they would freaking _leave._

Finally out of the space, she decides to jump down to a crate below, nearly falling off and into a different box… which looked like it had lots of shiny pointy things inside.

She starts to relax a bit when the men - one who was continuing to jabber on and on about stupid, impossible raccoons – (what the hell is a raccoon?) – while the other grunted in agreement or just remained silent and unaware.

_"Geez… they are making enough noise to even suspect I'm in here, and I haven't been necessarily quiet."_

She sits back on her haunches, her hands in front as she looks down and tries to hold back a gasp when she realizes something –

Her stuff was in _that box_.

_"Fuck. All my shit is in there."_ She scowls, glaring at the box and the others that began to join them.

_"At least they didn't find my – "_

"Star-Lord, what is this device?"

Her sapphire eyes nearly pop out of her head as she sucked in a large breath in panic.

Waving it off, the other replies, "Just toss it in with the other stuff, he'll show us what everything does anyways."

_"My bow. They have my_ _**fucking** _ _bow! Shit shit shit shit shit…"_

This mantra continues as the men start to lug the crates out of the room.

"Damn, we have to make another trip."


	16. Chapter 16

The door shuts, and the poor thing nearly passes out – forgetting that she needs to _breath goddamit!_

Seconds after the footsteps fade she throws herself to the floor and starts looking in the dark for her precious – she looks up.

It's shoved in the box by the door.

She's nearly in tears she's so relieved. About to leap across the other boxes to grab it, footsteps return, along with another male voice.

Making a split decision, she dives for the nearest cover, accidentally bumping some boxes stacked ceiling-high. She hears a quiet 'crunch,' – her half-eaten bag of chips dropped down a box, and was now teetering over the side of the cardboard and metal tower precariously.

"Hey! Don't just toss my shit around you Star-Idiot! That's _art_. Not to mention some of those aren't _finished yet,_ and they can _explode._ "

"Dude, why don't you stop bitching then and help?"

"Why do you think I'm _here_ asshole?"

The archer, now in danger of losing her precious accessories, is shaking in her hiding place. It was _killing_ her not to at least _watch_ what was going on.

But no, the light was _right there_ , and she would be seen by all. The only shadow she had was the small bit she crammed herself in.

_"Fuck fuck fuck fuck…"_

"Hey! Watch it! – Oof!" One of the men fell against the box tower.

"Shit man! What were you going to do? Knock that skyscraper on me?!"

"I bet it _looks_ like a skyscraper to _you_."

"...You are going to _get it_ asshole. Just wait -" A growl was heard then, something crinkles and falls, just as the tower is being settled and then -

\- chips rain from above, and drop all over the floor.

"What the –" crunching sounds are heard.

"Aw man! I don't wanna sweep this up!"

"Peter, shut up. At least they didn't fall on your _head._ "

"Friends. I do find it curious that there is food in a room that is meant for weaponry and supplies?"

"It probably fell from a carton of chips – "

"Half eaten?"

"Rocket, Drax – forget about it. One of us was probably straightening things out and left it here."

"On top of the boxes." A gruff voice deadpans.

There's a snicker, "Maybe someone was reading dirty magazines and just wanted some privacy?"

"Meaning you?"

A scoff.

"Shut up and let's get outta here."

_"I'm such a dumbass I'm such a dumbass I'm such a dumbass…."_

This mantra repeats as the bitching men leave the room and kick the door shut behind them.

The light was still on but she doesn't care, she freaking _dives_ out of her place and heads towards the door –

_"Right. It'd just be too fucking convenient for them to have left behind_ _**that** _ _box."_

Pressing her white, fluffy ear to the door, she's able to determine that the hallway outside was clear. So upon hearing the footfalls fading, she does a little hop to hit the light switch before slowly creaking open the door and slipping through.

_"Okay… you can do this… just find out where they are, and when they aren't paying attention… snatch the bow."_

If it were any other piece of equipment, she wouldn't be so fucking worried. But the uniqueness of her weaponry and supplies… they'd be stripping this ship bare before she could even hope for a chance to get out.

_"Need to get to it before they notice…_ "

She slithers and slinks along the halls, walls; under furniture (or what could pass as furniture she's sure) and eventually seeing some better vantage points, where she can traverse the next room up high.

_"Thank the freaking spirits or whatever – "_

Rejoicing, she bends down, does a little butt wiggle, then leaps – making it to the tip-top of some cabinets and shelves. Having found the location of some sort of weaponry presentation ( _"How odd…"_ ), she scans the room after finding a fine vantage point in the upper most left corner of the room.

_"Okay. Box is… over there. Okay… then I'm right by the door… then I can turn left and I'll have cover until I get to the space before the storage room. Perfect."_

She settles then, and awaits her opportunity.

_"Too bad I don't have my freaking sleeping gas."_ She snarls to herself, bearing her teeth.

"Alright Rocket, get on with it."

"Yea yea yea, gotta start with the big guns first ya know?"

She finally gets a chance to look at the occupants of the ship –

_"The freelancing team! They're okay!_ " she smiles to herself, as well as patting herself on the back, _"I knew those arrows would come in handy. Fuck you, Jack!"_

Not being careful, she switches her tail in excitement and it knocks off something from the shelf behind her. Upon realization, like a reflex, she dove into the shadowed corner.

But she didn't need to do that, because the item had fallen on a certain plant she had the pleasure of meeting yesterday.

"Hey Groot! Buddy, be careful alright? There are heavier things up on that shelf, don't squash your head in." the Terrain (who she is assuming is this 'Star-Lord, Star-Dork or Peter' person) chastised lightly, looking at the plant.

Their attention turned back to the smallest and furriest man of the bunch, as he was now nearly thrusting guns and explosives into the laps of the others around the room, she dares a peek over the edge of the shelf.

Her eyes lock immediately with the plant's. Brining a finger to her mouth, she makes a shushing motion. Asking him to keep quiet while she shoot shim a wink before turning back to watch for her chance...

* * *

"Dude, Rocket! This is _awesome_!" Peter beams as he inspects one of his new toys.

Rocket grins excitedly. Pleased that his friend likes the modifications.

"See?! Way better than that puny, cheap-o thing you had before. At least it was useful for parts."

"Wait… you took apart Jessie?!"

"You _named_ it?" Gamora asks incredulously.

"Of course, it's only normal to name your greatest creations and _that_ thing is worth a name – call it _Jessie 2.0._ "

"Man, you can't just go ripping apart random-ass things you find around the ship!"

"At least he is no longer using _the_ ship." Drax adds.

Rocket grins mischievously, "Yea _Star-Dork_ , you want me to go back to that?"

"Ugh, whatever – at least this shit is cool… " Peter looks up from the three awesome guns in his lap and on the floor by his boots to glare at his friend, "but I'm recoding the lock on my bedroom door."

"Challenge accepted, Star-Dork."

"Friend, what is that box?"

"What?" Rocket twitches his tail and ears in mild surprise, "I thought I had gone over everything…?"

With that he turns to the last box, furrowing his banded brow.

* * *

_"Fuck."_

Panic seizes her chest again, for what must've been the fifth time that day, at this rate she swears she'll drop dead here soon.

Looking at the clock on the wall at the other side of the room, she notices about an entire _hour_ had gone by, and not _once_ did she bother to watch for an opportunity to snatch her stuff.

She had been too distracted.

_"Stupid stupid stupid! What are you, a kid?! Losing focus over cool, shiny toys."_

It had to be admitted though, at least to herself, she was entranced with the way the other was talking about his modifications and creations to the various weaponry. Going into animated detail on how each newly assembled item could assist in varying scenarios that they've encountered in the past.

He had so much… passion for his work.

She can relate. Especially because now said man she had been admiring was skimming his paws all over her _Bianca_.

_"My baby…"_

Choosing to stay still, she had absolutely _no_ _idea_ what to do now…

* * *

"So what do you have there Rocket? It looks… different?"

"Yea… what does it do?"

Rocket narrows his eyes, noticing the detail and the craftsmanship of the odd looking device. Turning it over he pulls at the string, only to realize it's of a different material than what he's encountered before.

The room is silent as three of the other guardians rise from their spots and join Rocket, staring at the device.

"Rocket…?" Gamora softly tries to get his attention. Something wasn't quite right… she could tell by the look on his face.

"What is it?"

He turns it over again, before passing it over to Gamora.

"I don't know."

Gamora holds the thing in her hands and hums to herself. It looked familiar… but also extremely strange…

Has she seen this before? Where?

There's a silence in the room, "Wait… what do you _mean_ you don't _know?!_ You made it!"

"Not that, in fact…" Rocket strides back to the box, and digs through it, "I didn't make _anything_ in this box." His voice started to rise a few octaves, if he was suspicious before, he _definitely_ knows something's up _now._

Peter and Drax dig through the box, "Dude, maybe we accidently grabbed someone's stuff at the last moon we stopped at."

"Yes, I remember putting items in the back after that stop."

Rocket, starting to calm down now, shuffles back to the box. "Hmm… well, sucks for them. They had some weird shit." He picks up other items to examine them while Peter and Drax, curiosity satisfied, go back to gather up their new toys.

"Rocket, what's this piece? Is it a switch or a button?"

"One second Star-Dork, I'll hold your hand in a minute." He griped back, not wanting to be interrupted just yet…

This stuff was fascinating.

_"Who owned this… hell… who_ _**made** _ _this? And what does it_ _**do** _ _?"_

* * *

Throughout their conversation she was able to take control of her nerves again. She found her eyes soon glued to the clawed hands that were inspecting her equipment, tracing it with his hands and eyes as if to take in every minute detail.

She found herself feeling proud, and almost wished she could ask him, in person, what he thought about her weaponry. Maybe they could talk tech? None of the buffoons she worked with before knew anything about the mechanics or physics of their gear; they just wanted to know how to shoot and load them.

Suddenly, shit happened real fast.

Groot saw it coming, where everyone else was completely oblivious. There was a _click_ and then there was a _bang –_

Then half of the adjacent wall from Peter was coming down and with it, a startled, ruddy animal.

What little dust and debris there was began to settle on that side of the room. Thankfully, the wall was still standing, but all the shelves and the makeshift bookcase were in shambles, joining their items on the floor.

The room held its' breath for two seconds before chaos ensued.

"Groot! Are you alright?!" Gamora dropped what was in her hands and hurried over to the small tree.

"Am Groot!" he replied, waving his arms.

"What the HELL WAS THAT?!" Rocket roars, "Were you trying to _kill_ us?!"

"Hey, don't get all pissy with _me!"_ Peter defends, " _You_ made this! What the hell is that supposed to be for anyways?! Was that even _necessary?!"_

Watching Peter for a second, it clicked in his brain what caused the concussive shot and he chuckles, brushing the other off and turning back to the box he was checking out, "I told you to _wait,_ princess."

Peter struggles to find a response for that, Gamora sighs and walks over to him, slapping the back of his head, while Drax just gets out of her way.

"Rocket! Why make dangerous shit like that?! Someone could have _died._ "

"And it would have been your fault because you are impatient, Tch." Rocket pauses to man-handle one of the odd stick-items he was inspecting, before he continues distractedly, "No one's hurt, dork. And you're fine so stop bitching."

"No toys for you. You're too prone to danger. These are staying with me."

"Oh common Gamora!" Peter whines petulantly.

Rocket starts to tune everyone out as he digs through the box some more.

He pauses in his rustling and strains an ear towards the pile of junk, seeing some of the stuff _move_ before he hears the shifting of materials.

"Uh… guys?"

Gamora has already snapped into action and has herself positioned to shoot at whatever this thing was, should her shipmates be in danger.

Everything's still for a second until suddenly in the quiet comes a louder rustling and shifting sound – then the noise stops again and eyes narrow on a large piece of a broken shelf as it starts to rise.

Rocket steps closer and crouches down, hand pulling out a fancy pistol from its holster.

* * *

Her heart was beating way too fast, she couldn't believe she hasn't died from it yet. She had thought that she was blessed with an opportunity to not be seen, but they had noticed her struggle and strife – now she was caught.

The jig was up. It was time to face the consequences of her period of stupidity and fangirlishness.

Shaking slightly, in fear or anticipation, she didn't know, the ruddy-colored girl tried to make herself a way out of the pile.

_"Oh, great… first one I see will be him."_ She thinks to herself in a panic when she sees his lower half in the small space between her, the floor, and the stupidly heavy metal shelf on top of her. As she inched closer though, she saw that he had drawn his pistol.

_"Oh god, I'm going to die… they're going to shoot first, and then throw me out the airlock."_

Without her control, perhaps it was the stress or the fear that took over her – but she accidently let a small whimper of panic fall out of her mouth.

_"Fuck… pull yourself together! You are above fear! You've had worse than a gunshot, what the hell is the matter with you!"_

She sniffles and tries to calm herself down.

* * *

Erring on the side of caution, Rocket had scooted closer to whatever was underneath, determination on his face – ready for it to jump out and make a move.

But then he heard a noise. It was small, but sad. It was a frightened whimper. It's a noise similar to what he had heard from Groot when he was a little sprout, whenever something would hurt.

_"Whatever it was that's under there, it's scared."_

His sensitive hearing picks up a watery sniffle.

_"And crying…?"_

He slowly re-holsters his gun and relaxes his stance as he leans in closer. All hold their breath as they watch Rocket; exchanging looks of curiosity between each other. Groot looking both anxious and a little worried.

Rocket looks back over his shoulder at his friends and makes a hand motion to Gamora to stand down. She scowls and shakes her head, but Rocket just looks back to the board and takes a breath.

"Hey… it's okay… we won't hurt you. Just come out." Rocket pleads softly, trying to coax whoever (or whatever) was under there to come out… hopefully before Gamora lost her patience and just starts shooting at the pile blindly.

More movement and shuffling is heard, and then the board begins to lift.

Suddenly, bright sapphires with lovely lashes meet deep brown eyes as one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen looks up at him tentatively.

Her beautiful coat stood out against the materials surrounding them; a strong, ruddy red, with bright, white fur markings decorating her face and ears. A dark, chocolate brown arm was supporting the board above her head.

She's the first to break the contact as the stranger lowers the board again and starts to shimmy out of the space.

Too shocked to say anything (what the hell would he say _anyways_ ) he wordlessly helps the creature, which looked _just like him_ , to get out from under the debris.

He grasps two small, brown hands, and pulls the red raccoon to her feet; out and away from the rubble.

The room is silent, surprise painting the faces of every being in the room. Even Drax, who usually doesn't catch on to such social cues, could tell that this was not something to interrupt.

Everyone held their breath as their friend stares at his counterpart in bewilderment and awe.

Awkwardness was holding the entire scene in pause, Groot took it upon himself to kick start things by breaking the spell on the room.

"Groot!"

As if it was a magic word, everyone snaps back into the present. Rocket and the mysterious stranger yank their hands away from the others' as if they were burned.

There's a few seconds of silence as the red raccoon-looking girl backs up a few steps before chancing a glance at the other occupants in the room. Landing once again on Rocket.

Peter inhales sharply before sighing and scratching his head.

"Well shit. A panda..."


	17. Chapter 17

_"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck holy fuck..._

She had been found out, and she wasn't dead yet.

The poor thing had no idea what to do. She hadn't been planning on surviving this…

She almost wished they _had_ shot or attacked her… then at least she would be _doing something_ , and shit wouldn't be so freaking awkward right now.

_"Maybe I am dead, he's staring at me like I'm a fucking ghost."_

Oh how she wished she could just melt through the floor right now.

She couldn't pull away from his eyes. He caught her and she was so scared. Her ears were twitching, listening for any sound of movement from the others.

_"Shit, girl… breathe goddamit! Or at least fucking_ _ **say something**_ _!"_ Her ears and stripped tail twitches anxiously and she swallows.

_"You look_ _**stupid** _ _._ _**TALK.** _ _"_

But she couldn't.

What would she fucking _say_ anyways?

* * *

After more moments of silence, Peter decides to attempt to break the curse of _awkward_ that fell upon them all, _again_.

With hands on his hips, taking a few steps forwards, he clears his throat, grabbing everyone's attention.

"So… I'm Star-Lord… captain of this ship, and you are…"

He looks down and into startled, sapphire eyes. Her white fluffy ears were bent backwards, and her pretty eyes were wide.

_"Holy shit it's fucking_ _ **cute**_ **.** " Peter coos childishly in his head.

Gamora moves closer to their invader.

"Ah. I thought I had seen this stuff before." Gamora kindly regards the furry stowaway. Peter looks over at Gamora questioningly, as does Rocket.

The stranger visibly relaxes at her words.

"Thank you for getting us out of there. You saved our lives. I almost thought you didn't make it." Gamora smiles softly, ensuring the red, raccoon – looking girl that she remembered her.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Back up a second. You _know_ her?" Rocket's voice demanded, throwing a finger behind him at said girl.

Turning his back on the other, he heads towards Gamora, "And she saved _us._ "

Gamora nods, he turns around and gets a small nod from the other. "And… what… you didn't _say_ anything?! _When?!"_

Peter decides to speak up, raising his hand to call attention to himself, "Uh… yea, I think an explanation is in order, because I think I would remember seeing… **_that._** _"_ He rudely shoves a finger down towards the red, furry visitor.

Gamora scowls and turns on the human, "The other day when we were at the warehouse, there was someone that was assisting from the rafters, remember? They were helping us get out, and providing cover for Rocket –"

"By blowing a fucking hole through the wall." Peter finished, a bit irritated that Gamora didn't think it was _important_ to let them know that she had seen another _'Rocket'._

"It – _she's_ not a threat. Especially right now. Why are you upset?"

"Yea, Peter… why are **_you_** upset?" Attention turns to Rocket as his anger, which was sizzling now, and looking like it was about to boil and explode any second as he advances towards the three humanoids.

Then they are all arguing amongst themselves. Even Drax joined in.

* * *

_"Well shit… these guys can argue up a storm, that's for sure."_

Once the attention began to drift away from her, she started to come back to herself mentally, able to relax and _think_. Squaring her shoulders, having her composure back, she watches them with a raised brow.

_"They obviously don't see me as a threat…"_

Confident that they were not the type to kill her, she decides to leave the room and go take care of the small cut to her shoulder caused by the tumble with the debris.

Tuning out the banter, she makes her way towards the door, waving when she approaches the friendly plant… but someone's words stop her in the doorway.

"There's someone else out there that's like **_me…_** " hurt prickles through the gruff, angry voice.

A deep growl is heard, and she turns and stares at him, watching him closely as he yells up at his friends, "And you didn't _think_ to **_FUCKING TELL ME_**?!"

Anguish. Betrayal. Hurt.

_Rage._

Those were the emotions she read on his grey and black, mask-patterned face. She had never met someone who could be so _expressive._

Her ears droop slightly and her white eyebrows furrow, as she continues to stand there and watch the scene.

"Watch it, Rocket. It's an honest mistake, okay? Calm down, we still aren't alone in here – " he gestures towards the corner, not bothering to take his eyes off his green girlfriend.

"Friends. The intruder is no longer with us."

Panic seizes everyone as the stare at the corner.

Rocket's face drops, and his anger forgotten as he stares at the spot the other was standing in; now empty. His face drops and his ears droop to the sides.

**_"_** _Shit, "_ Peter curses, pacing the room, messing his hands through his hair, "We probably scared her with our yelling."

_"Oh shit, that face… I can't take that face…"_

Suddenly the attention is called elsewhere.

"AM GROOT!"

She freezes as all the attention is back on her now. She shoots a glare at the plant.

_"Damn, he sold me out!"_

After making sure 'Groot' knew she didn't appreciate him outing her position. He just smiles back at her, so she turns to regard the others –

Who all had the decency to look rather very sheepish.

"Heh heh … sorry about that." The other, _Rocket_ , scratches behind his ears, "So… uh… what brings you here…?"

The poor guy gets no response. Just a blank stare.

_"Fuck, that was cute… shit, I need to talk… say something stupid!"_

But her mouth wasn't receiving the messages from her brain, so she remains stock-still. Her panic begins to return.

_"Oh my god, really?_ _**Now** _ _you have nothing to say."_

While she internally curses herself for her sudden inability to speak, the green woman comes forward.

"You're on the run, aren't you?"

Now it's the green woman's turn to get the attention of the red-raccoon, "You had someone remove the tracking chip, right?"

_"Nod, bitch. You can at least do_ _**that** _ _. Don't let them think you're stupid!"_

She receives a nod from the smaller female.

"Okay, okay… what's going on here. Running away from what? And how do _you_ know?! You said you two didn't say a _word_ to each other!" Rocket, no longer sounding angry, just irritated. By the looks on the others' faces, this was his usual, grumpy-ass self.

Rocket's gaze petulantly lands on his green, female friend as he crosses his arms, waiting for an answer. The green woman raises a delicate brow.

"The collar."

She can see realization dawning on the other as he spins around and… yup. He sees it now.

He approaches her with a horrified (or sympathetic?) look on his face.

_"I know exactly what he's thinking. She's someone's fucking_ _ **pet**_ _. Poor, helpless thing."_ She growls to herself in her head, angry at the shame she still feels.

Slowly, he reaches a hand out towards the collar, but before he can get within inches of it, she pulls back and growls, baring her teeth.

Rocket quickly pulls his hands away, "Okay, okay! Sorry… didn't mean to piss ya off."

"Friends, I think she is injured."

She didn't realize she was holding her arm through most of the one-sided conversation. Her eyes snap to the large, bulky man with intricate red tattoos.

"Shit. Hold on, I'll go grab a bandage or sumthin'"

Rocket squeezes past her, leaving the room.

"Come, why don't you sit down?" Gamora gestures towards the couches and chairs in the room.

Hesitantly, she makes her way over.


	18. Chapter 18

_"Son-ofva-bitch, does crazy-ass shit always have to happen here?!"_ Rocket tried to feel annoyed, or nonchalant. Like he didn't care.

But truth was he _did._

He was suddenly all giddy and happy and wants to chatter away about everything to the other…

But he's a fucking _man_. He will _not_ do that shit.

Giddiness, confusion, frustration, surprise… all sorts of feelings were bombarding his head right now, and he had no idea how to deal with it all.

_"Where's this fucking first aide kit Pete keeps saying he has around."_

Eventually locating the small, red case, he heads back towards what they made into a living room, or a 'den' Peter had called it once.

_"Whatever the fuck that means."_

He tries to push the thought of the collar on her to the back of his mind, knowing that if he was in her position, that'd be a touchy topic for him too.

"Peter, you've _got_ to get more of these around here."

"Yea, especially with you boys." Gamora grumbles, taking the box from Rocket who scowls as he watches her tend to the furry girl's wounds.

Peter pulls a seat closer, "So… we probably picked you up on Knowwhere, right?"

He receives a nod. Peter frowns.

"So… you stowed away on our ship to escape… your boss, I take it."

She scrunches up her nose in disgust, which almost made Rocket chuckle.

_"That's too goddamn cute."_

"So… I'll take that as a yes." Peter continues on awkwardly, "Um…"

Rocket watches as his female counterpart yawns before regarding his human friend tiredly.

"Alright, alright, alright… I think she needs some rest, don't you?" Rocket tries to interrupt Peter before he can go off on more questions to interrogate the poor girl.

Now that those sapphires were focused on him, he found himself scrambling to put together coherent sentences, "Uh… I mean… we can take a break… and, like… return back to… this… whatever… later?" he trails off. He can feel his face heat up in embarrassment.

Thank god for the fur.

Peter stands up next to Gamora, who had seated herself right next to the newcomer, "Okay, okay… fine. But can we at least get her _name_ first?" He asks Rocket irritably.

Wow. Did he feel stupid now.

"Ah… yea… uh… so… what's… your name?" He pulls a nervous smile, laughing at himself.

* * *

_"Fuck."_

Logically, she knew that the question was going to pop up; she just thought she'd be gone before then, or would have had something in mind.

But no, she was at a loss. What can she fucking _say_.

_"I don't have a fucking name… at least not anymore."_

She allows a scowl of frustration on her face as she thinks up of what to say to her newest acquaintances.

"Um… Rocket… I don't think she can talk."

Huh.

_"Well, that's an idea… I can play along… at least until I come up with something."_

Truth is, she was dying to talk to the weapon's genius. She had some inquiries she wanted to have voiced during his little presentation, but couldn't (for obvious reasons).

She turns to him and her heart clenches in her chest. He looks… not sad but… disappointed.

Panic seizes her again, and now her voice really _didn't_ work.

_"Fuck! Say something_ _**now** _ _you fucking idiot."_

Breaking up the awkwardness, Gamora stands up and Peter joins her, clapping his hands together.

"Okay! We will continue this later, let's eat something!" With voices of agreement from the other two humanoids, the three leave the room.

She pushes herself off of the couch and looks at Rocket, giving him a nervous smile, before making her way to _her_ box.

* * *

After she broke eye contact with him he snaps back to attention, scrambling after her.

"So! Uh…Yea… um…"

She turns her head to watch him and raises an eyebrow, which only makes his nerves worse. Probably deciding to give him a break, she looks back into the box and starts shuffling things around.

"Uh…" He starches behind his ears, nervously smiling, "So… my name is Rocket?"

A soft laugh.

He freezes as she then turns to look at with an amused smirk on her face, a twinkle of mischief in her cerulean eyes.

"Really…?" She drawls, tilting her head, "You don't sound too sure about it."

His heart skips a beat.

Her voice was smooth, like vanilla… but not sweet. No… her voice was like…

Tequila.

She had _spice_.

He liked spice.

Gaining some secure footing again, he continues. "Yea. Rocket. I'm… Peter said I'm a raccoon…?"

She looks at him funny, "What's a raccoon?"

"Dunno."

"Hm…" she hums turning her attention back to the box. Rocket watches her before walking up and joining her, pulls various items out of the box.

He looks over at her and sees an irritated scowl on her face, made obvious by the stark-white markings over her eyes that stood out against her crimson coat.

"You messed it all up. I had it organized."

Feeling stupid for not realizing, he finally put two and two together.

"So these things are _all_ yours?"

"Yes."

He whistles as he examines the things as she starts to pack them away in the bag he pulled them out of.

Suddenly she stands and walks across the room, picking up the large device he'd been so fascinated with earlier.

"So… you used that when you at the warehouse?"

He watches as she reverently runs her fingers over the tech in her hands, not looking up from it, she answers softly, "Yea… " Apparently she concludes that her weapon was not damaged, because she carefully sets it aside before dropping to her knees, pulling the bag closer to her.

"Uh… so what is that thing? I haven't seen a weapon like that before. It would look almost primitive if it weren't for the obvious technology embedded inside… where'd you get something like that anyways?"

He watches her as she tries to hide a smile, "You aren't short on questions, are you?" Laughing, Rocket scoots a little closer, to the large bag in between them, "I've been told I like the sound of my own voice a few times, mainly Peter."

"You mean 'Star-Dork'?" she quips.

Barking out a laugh, he almost falls over, "You heard us earlier huh?"

"Yup, you and your friend wasted a bag of some very tasty chips with your rough-housing. I was looking forward to eating those for the next few days."

She looks up gives him a smirk, when he smiles in return, she hurriedly drops her gaze back to her tools in her lap, "Well, it's looking like you won't have to subject yourself to crumbs."

"They weren't crumbs before you stepped on them."

Rocket just couldn't hold back a smile, and by the looks of his conversation partner, she couldn't either.

* * *

Gamora was _trying_. She was trying _so hard_ not to squeal like some stupid little girl.

But seeing the two furry raccoons talk, and seeing Rocket so _happy_ , her entire body was buzzing in excitement; it was so bad she had a smile on her face!

"Damn. She knows me as 'Star-Dork'… fucking bastard." Peter whispers. She looks behind her and sees an angry pout on his face.

Peeking around the corner, she sees Groot wiggling happily.

_"It's so cute… he's dancing!"_

Suddenly her stomach grumbles.

Man, this girlishness is exhausting. She sighs softly and stands up, pulling Peter to ensure he follows.

She needs a snack.


	19. Chapter 19

They were alone in the kitchen, munching away on snacks – foregoing eating a proper meal.

They were adults anyways.

"They can eat wherever and whenever and _what_ they wanted"; at least that's what Peter so petulantly pointed out one day to Gamora, who was trying desperately to get the guys on a damn eating schedule.

"So Gam…" Peter says around a mouthful of peanut butter sandwich. Gamora gives him a disgusted look… so he waits and swallows before continuing.

"So… you are usually very… um…" He looks at her and she's watching him… listening intently. Mentaly, Peter gulps.

This chick was scaring the shit outta him… should he just keep his mouth shut?

Nah.

"Well… you are usually like _super_ anal and serious and all _'you can't trust easily'_ … you know, " He makes a wide gesture, making Gamora's eyebrows rise.

"…I hope I don't actually sound like that to you."

Peter gapes, almost dropping his favorite snack, " _That's_ what you got out of it… seriously, Gamora… why so accepting? I mean, she doesn't seem _un_ trustworthy, but I was expecting you putting up _some_ kinda … I dunno… argument…?"

Now _he_ wasn't ever sure what he was going on about anymore.

She sighs and leans in towards Peter, gesturing for him to lean in too. Curiosity peeked (and a piece of him being afraid she might knock him out) he leans in slowly.

"Because I know what that collar is. It's utilized as a torcher device. Whatever she was trying to escape from, I'm not going to push for too many details."

Leaning back, she rubs at her neck and sighs, "If it's helping to free someone of a prison… I can sympathize. But I would like to see how she is working with a team, and with us individually."

Peter hums in thought, then smiles, "My buddy seems to be quite taken with her. I don't think we'll have much of a choice."

Gamora shrugs, downing the rest of her mug of tea.

Smirking, he leans forward with an all too familiar look on his face.

_"Shit. That's his 'I just came up with an idea' face."_ Gamora regards him suspiciously, which just makes Peter's smile grow.

In this situation, it could very well be harmless. But usually that's always her 'assumption,' then shit explodes everyone (one time… literally).

"Let's stop at the next asteroid and go out!"

At the odd look on Gamora's face, he grins, and then continues on with his proposal animatedly.

"Like a date! I'll even make sure I smell pretty, and if you want, I guess we can dress nice." Peter says cheekily, winking at the girl across from him.

Rolling her eyes, the Gamora struts over to the sink to dispose of her plate, turning around she leans against the sink and folds her arms over her chest.

"Soooo…. Are you just going to stand there looking at me like you want to drown me in the sink? Or are you going to answer me, oh goddess of the Milano."

Sarcasm. Way to go Peter.

She smirks, " That's actually not a bad idea. I'll have add it to the list."

"… you have a fucking _list_."

They stare at each other for a few beats until Peter blurts out –

"I don't know if you're being serious or not…"

Her smirk turns into a devious smile; a shiver runs down his spine.

And this was the woman he wanted to sleep with. Lords help him.

He stands up and goes to toss his plate into the sink as Gamora goes to leave the room. Humming to himself as he tidies up the kitchen he realizes…

The bitch scared him out of getting an answer.

"Dammit."

Good thing he knew the _perfect_ way to annoy the crap outta her. Now the devious smile was on _his_ face as he threw the towel on the counter and hurries out of the room.

* * *

Figuring she would go check on the two raccoons (that's what they were called... right?), Gamora walks into the room before leaning against the doorframe – pointedly ignoring the mess there.

"Hey." She smiles as the two look up from whatever they were doing.

"Rocket, why don't you find some extra bedding for her tonight." He was about to protest and gripe about not being the fucking _maid_ … but at the look on Gamora's face he decides not to argue.

"Yea, yea a'ight, " standing up he looks back at his conversation companion, "Ya hungry?"

She nods.

"Um… cool… okay… be right back…"

The girls watch him scamper out of the room.

There's a moment of silence between the ladies before the Zehoberi girl makes her way to the other, "I'm Gamora… do you need some help with that?"

Hesitantly meeting the green woman's eyes, she shakes her head and gives a tentative smile. Regardless, Gamora makes herself comfortable on the floor beside the other, watching her nervously re-pack various items and equipment into her bag.

Peter then enters the room and goes to stand by the seated Gamora. Peter noticed the red panda fidget nervously, trying to keep her hands busy. Sighing, he decides to break the ice, and cut to the chase.

"Look." The addressee flinches, then turns to look up at the human, "I know it's probably not something you _want_ to talk about… but you kinda did break into our ship. Aaaand like… we know you're here… so… it'd be polite to like… well… explain?"

"She doesn't have to fucking explain anything to you Star-Tard."

Everyone's attention is at the doorway now, where Rocket is standing with a blanket and pillow under his arms. Rolling his eyes, Peter quips back, "Getting a little creative now, are we?"

"Thought I'd switch it up a bit. But seriously, leave her alone."

Peter's eye twitches in frustration, friendliness about to fly out the window.

"But I want to know how the hell she _got_ in here in the first place?! That's not wrong to _kindly_ ask that of an ousted stowaway!"

Peter turns on the short, red-furred girl and trying to adjust his tone, "Look, we haven't gotten mad, or tied you up or threatened you or anything; so there's no reason to be scared of us. I _know_ you have to be some kind ofva badass to do what you did in that warehouse." Peter glares down at her.

"Why you –" Rocket growls and is about to make an attempt to rip his stupid face off when Gamora pulls him back with a hand to his shoulder.

Everyone was a bit surprised when _she_ returns the glare. One that could rival Gamora's even.

Peter's own scowl drops from his face.

"I think I had every reason to wary. You _did_ shoot at me."

He stutters for a moment, and just when he was about to grovel and apologize, she beats him to it, "I am sorry if I don't appear to be grateful, but thank you for not taking any further actions against me. You can drop me off at the nearest port."

The room is silent with shock, no one knows what to say – for once.

She twitches her ears and looks over her shoulder at the mess, "I'll clean and straighten that before I depart."

With that she leaves the room with her bag.

The room remains silent for a beat before Rocket rips out a growl, "You're a fucking dick, you know that? Gamora, beat him up for me. I'm going to talk to her."

"Oh… I will."

Peter gulps as Gamora glares at him and cracks her knuckles.

"So... I guess this means no date then?"


	20. Chapter 20

A panic seizes his chest as he frantically looks for the sly girl, only to find that she has made her way to the back of the ship, sitting just outside of the storage room door.

"Hey!"

He's able to stop her from retreating into the dark, small space with her things; but he doesn't get her gaze.

_"Just count the small victories."_

"Look…" Rocket approaches her cautiously, stopping right behind her and laying a gentle claw on her slim, red shoulder, "You gotta ignore the Star-idiot sometimes. He's not usually such an ass." When he lets out a breathy chuckle, she tentatively looks over her shoulder at him, doubt and inquiry in her gaze.

Rocket, having met her eyes, falters a bit before finishing, "Normally that's my job."

She just blinks at him, so he clarifies, "You know… to be an ass."

Whether it was the contact, the look in his eyes, the sincerity and gentle timber of his voice, or the humorous quip that drained the tension out of her shoulders and brought a small, trusting smile to her face; he may never know.

All that mattered to him for the rest of the evening was that he convinced this lovely red lady to stay awhile.

* * *

Shortly after their conversation, they hear domestic violence protruding from Peter's room (they are hoping that's what it was anyways), followed by the sounds of Peter's pleading for Gamora to stop. The others just sit quietly together in the kitchen as they wait for the captain and his first lady.

She was about on her second cup of tea when the human and the Zehoberi girl emerge from the dark hallway. The small, furry man sitting beside her can't help but laugh raucously at the look on his friend's face as he enters the kitchen.

Finding herself smiling softly and listening in on their domestic conversations and bickering, she starts to grasp just how _unreal_ this all felt to her. She realizes later that she had spent all of their mealtime just staring into open space; thinking. By the time she looks up, startled out of her musings by a polite tap to her shoulder, she meets the raccoon's soft brown eyes beside her.

"I think it's time we all get some shut-eye."

Nodding her head dumbly at the male, she follows him and the green woman into the other room and she builds herself a bed on the back of the couch.

"I used to have a cat that did that once."

"What the hell is a cat?" Rocket's gruff voice replies with the question on the others' minds.

Rolling his eyes, the terrain sighs, mumbles "never mind" and then leaves the room – presumably to get some sleep.

* * *

Rocket was having a hard time leaving their surprise guest that night, but he noticed her spacing out, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion that there really wasn't much else that he could do without being an annoyance.

So that's where he was now, late into the night and still wide awake staring at his ceiling. Tapping his foot to a beat in his head, he reflects on the day's events. It was then that he starts to wish he had brought Groot with him, but it seems that his friend had taken a liking to the newest guest.

He smiles. One thing he was able to get out of her was how she met Groot, and she told him it was a simple accident, but that she really likes the plant; to which his best friend just wiggled happily, making her smile.

_"This is going to be fucking terrifying."_ Despite the thought he grins stupidly at the grim-looking ceiling above him.

Not even twenty four hours has gone by, and he's already quite smitten.

_"As a kitten, Star-Dorkus would say."_

After that thought, he tries to catch some sleep, only to be teased by sparkling sapphires in red coats.

* * *

It was only about two hours before she awoke to a dark and quiet ship. Slowly uncurling from her sleep, she looks around and her gaze lands on the slumbering plant at the end of the couch. Smiling kindly, she reaches over and gently pets a leaf on Groot, before deciding to get up and wander the ship.

_"Or the Milano… that's what the Star-Lord called it, right?"_

Musing to herself, she silently travels from room to room within the ship. In the corner of one room, there was something that looked like a chair to her… but when she jumped up on it, she nearly fled when it started to rock on her. Finding this odd, she scrambles off of the moving seat and just decides to grab some of the novels that were resting on the side table next to it.

With these in hand, she heads back to the familiar living space, where a new friend was calmly snoozing away (she had no idea that trees slept… but apparently this one does). For the next few hours she learns much about the terrain world, _humans_ and their ethnic folklores, which she found mildly entertaining.

She can't remember a time when she had read for fun, and not for science or engineering.

Looking at a clock hung precariously on the other side of the room, she realizes it's now about 3am, and she should sleep, but she's too consumed with thoughts.

So many thoughts, musings, questions. Overall she was feeling very… lost.

In the middle of her reading she frowns. The archer couldn't decide if she _likes_ the story of the Phoenix, but regardless of that fact, she finds herself going to grab a nearby data pad, and logging into the intranet to do some research.

If anything, she needs to have a name by morning. The past three years, she hasn't quite settled on a name.

Imagine the struggle of having to pick a name for yourself, and then live with it for the rest of your life?

It never mattered to her what people called her; often they didn't even bother to give her a name or a status. She was a tool and a pet. Nothing more. But picking something to label herself… giving herself a _name_ … now it just became something she continuously put off to the side.

But she talks to these people, and she _likes_ these people.

Her mind drifts to the gruff, furry bandit and she frowns more.

She wants _him_ to call her by a _name_.

_"But what will I choose? What will fit as well as – "_

Her thoughts are interrupted when the plant nearby lets out a yawn and stretches. Looking up at the clock, she realizes that three hours have gone by.

Looking back down at the data pad in her lap, she begins to skim a site for a suitable name for herself now; anything but the horrid name that was given to her, a name that haunts her as the months and years go by.

Perhaps if she finds herself a name now… and she's allowed to stay and make… friends… her life outside of that place can really begin.

With newfound determination, she scoots next to Groot who looks over her shoulder as she browses the net.

A few more hours go by and now her new (and only) plant friend is helping her with her task after promising to keep her secret (and not oust her _again_ ).

* * *

She's completely distracted by her mission that she startles at gruff (but friendly) morning greeting from the large, dark tattooed-covered man. Giving a hesitant wave back, she has been lifted of the concentration spell and her heart skips a beat when she hears more voices join together in the kitchen.

Starting to panic, now she can't even read what's in front of her, though she tries _desperately_. Both look to the door when they hear Rocket appear, asking them questions about breakfast and drinks… but they aren't _really_ listening.

She smiles nervously at the other before she feels a tap on her shoulder, and a slim tree-limb slithers down her shoulder and points to a name on the pad. After looking over her shoulder at Groot, and seeing an encouraging smile and nod, she searches the meaning of the name.

Smiling because it's perfect, she feels a sense of relief and happiness wash over her.

_Finally._ She has a name.

Looking down at the pad again, she drops it beside Groot on the table and uncurls from the couch. Candidly, she follows Rocket into the kitchen, but before she leaves she shoots a wink and a smile towards her new friend in thanks.

Groot is beaming, happy for his new friend. He looks to the side down at the data pad –

_"Renee."_


	21. Chapter 21

"Hey! It's the panda!" Peter jovially shouts when Rocket and their new friend step into the room. Both look at him in confusion.

"What the hell is a _panda_?" Gesticulating to the other, nearly hitting her in the face, Rocket continues, "It's _obvious_ she's a raccoon."

Peter, after swallowing the large bite of fruit he took grins at him again, "No, _you_ are a raccoon. From earth. On earth, she is what is called a 'red panda' or 'fire fox.'"

There's a silence in the room and Peter feels its' gaze, nervously he continues – "not that it really matters… I guess. You are the only _talking_ one I have ever seen or heard about."

Gamora sighs and shakes her head, "Peter just shut up before you start to sound stupid."

"Too late."

Everyone nearly breaks their necks, turning their attention to the panda next to Rocket. There's one beat of silence before all (except Peter), bark out in laughter for about five minutes.

Rocket starts to come down from his high and grins over at the smaller female, "Yea, you'll be getting along just fine with us, sweetheart."

Gamora and Drax agree happily while Peter grunts, pouting at being the butt of the joke – again.

Looking up at the raccoon, she twitches her snow-white ears and smiles beautifully at him. Then she walks away to the table and climbs up on a seat before reaching for a bread roll.

Rocket finds himself frozen and his face heats up, _"Thank the spirits for the furry face."_ Gamora addresses him, and finally he snaps out of his stupor and looks up at her. She gives him a knowing smile.

_"Aw fuck. This is going to get irritating real fast."_ Grumpily, Rocket stomps towards the table and pulls himself up on a seat across from the red-furred beauty.

He watches her and starts to feel sheepish again at his thoughts. _"Aw shit. I guess I can't tease Star-Dork anymore about being sappy. Fuck this is ridiculous."_

With an intense, chocolate-brown gaze, Rocket watches her crinkle her nose up at an odd fruit that Drax has insisted she try; turning it over in her small hands, glaring at it like it was some huge trick.

_"Damn, she's cute."_

Just then she catches him staring at her and tilts her head to the side, narrowing her sapphire eyes suspiciously.

Rocket nearly slams a piece of toast in his face in embarrassment.

She looks away and listens to Drax. Beside him, Peter whispers –

"So not smooth, man."

* * *

Tan is about doing his normal chores, idly wondering how Miss Archer was fairing. He hopes she got off of Knowhere all right, and didn't run into much trouble.

Kicking a stone, he continues down a side street, making his way to Jack's place. Honestly, he was a bit nervous. But he had practiced his deception last night during one of his weekly showers. He just hopes he can pull it off in front of Jack and his intimidating crew.

If he's lucky, they won't even ask about her. And if they _did_ , he had already come up with a plan for the tracking device (which was currently hidden at Berk's estate).

Trudging down a familiar tunnel, feet slapping on the damp ground he reminisces about the last time he was down here – he was taking Miss Archer away from those terrible mercs, not expecting to have made a new friend.

Twenty minutes pass and now he's deep within the underground network of tunnels, beginning to approach Jack's 'safe house.' As usual, the sound of drunken laughter, arguing and crashing leaks through the thick, cracked wooden door.

Not even bothering to knock, because he knew they wouldn't hear him, he just opens the door carefully and strolls inside.

He has gone unnoticed so far, so he just looks through the crowd of men and women carefully, looking for their leader. Spotting the large, gruff leader over in one of the corners, chugging ale and looking over data pads, Tan makes his way to him. Carefully avoiding any run-ins with his raucous crew.

"Here are the updates Berk promised, as well as some funds for certain equipment and tools he thinks you will need."

Jack slams down his mug and rips the envelope from the boy's hands. "Right. He wants all this shit done by tomorrow night now. Switching shit on us like that. Crazy fucking bastard." Glaring at the boy, he rips a pen from his pocket and jots down a note, nearly shoving it in Tan's face.

"Take this to yer damn boss. Tell 'im it'll be done. But I'm not gunna pay every one of my freelancers outta my cut. He's gunna hafta help."

Nodding, Tan waits patiently until he is dismissed. Only unfortunately, he's not.

"So how's our little pet bitch? She servin' your master well or what? What does he 'av her doin' anyways?"

"I do not know M-Mr. Jack. I am just his errand-boy."

"Surly you 'ave _heard_ something?"

Taking a breath in he hesitates, "He is keeping her around to go through certain things. Mostly background checks on the other servants."

Well, that was partially true. Holding his breath he waits for Jack's response. "Ha! Suspecting his own, eh? Wouldn't be surprised. He's a right bastard that one. Knows too fucking much. But he pays well. Only reason he's still standing as far as I see it by my books."

He nods.

"Now get outta 'ere, kid. Go."

Tan didn't need to be told twice.

What he didn't notice, however, was the spying blue giant in the corner. Watching them intently beneath his thick hood.

* * *

"We'll be stopping at the G-56 Alpha asteroid in about an hour."

Fluffy white ears perk up, and her red face snaps towards the direction of the green-skinned woman, Gamora. Peter leans in the doorway, shooting a look at Gamora behind her back.

"And yes, Peter – we are stopping there."

"But I was almost _arrested_ last time! I'm not allowed to set foot on that place, and you know it!" Peter squawked, making the fire-fox giggle under her breath before focusing back on her arrows.

"Then stay on the ship."

"But that's boring!"

"Yea, seeing Star-Dork get chased around the rock again would be very _not_ boring! Why'd you have to tell him where we were landing?" Rocket scoffs, shooting a mischievous glance towards her, making her blush and fiddle with her arrows while the conversation continues above her.

Gaping for a few seconds, Peter relents. "You guys are all assholes." He huffs before marching out of the cockpit.

Gamora turns around once Peter leaves and faces their furry, red newcomer sitting on the floor against the wall, "So, have you forgiven him yet?"

Realizing she was being spoken to, the archer looks up and smirks, "Well yea, if I had known of his obliviousness beforehand, I wouldn't have thought twice about his previous offenses."

Rocket snickers and Gamora covers her smile with a gloved hand.

Drax pushes into the cramped space, looking concerned, "Friends. Star Lord is currently abusing his head against the dinning table. Has something gone wrong? Does it need fixing?"

"I'm afraid his brain cannot be fixed by any being on this side of the galaxy." The archer mutters under her breath, sending Rocket into a fit of laughter.

Drax looks confused between the other three in the space, landing his gaze on the smiling Gamora, "Is it not the job of Rocket to 'bash' the character of our Star Lord?"

She tries to hide a smile while she watches Gamora smirk and shake her head at Drax – and Rocket fall over, wheezing. Sending a confused look at him, she picks up her things and slowly slips from the room.

_"These people are so weird… or crazy… I haven't decided yet."_ She thinks to herself while trying to find a quieter place to tinker.

* * *

An hour later, the crew (minus Peter) plus one, find themselves dropping down from the _Milano_ and into red dirt. Rocket scrunches up his nose at the thinness of the air inside the asteroid station.

"Why does every asteroid base or whatever _have_ to have a weird smell to it?"

Upon hearing no answer, he looks around himself to find that Gamora and Drax were up ahead, and he was alone. Looking behind him, he sees his red-furred companion. He stops and waits for her to catch up, noticing she was looking around absent-mindedly; a funny look on her face.

"Hey."

After not getting her attention, he reaches out and sets a paw on her slim shoulder.

_"She needs to eat more."_

"Yea, Rocket?"

"You 'kay? All this ain't too much for ya, is it?"

She looks at him in confusion. He struggles to continue, "Uh… cause you know… you've been like… not around… a lot?"

Realizing what he was getting at she shakes her head and continues walking further into the station, "No. I mean, I've been around the galaxy… but I never really got the chance to explore… I was always doing a job, or was told to stay close."

Noticing this was not a subject she was comfortable with, he stutters to change it, "Okay then, well… we have a few hours, did you need anything? Is there anything you've wanted to do?"

She stops and watches him for a second while he internally berates himself.

_"Pull your shit together, man. You're Rocket!"_

Before he can attempt to regain some 'manliness,' she hesitantly rubs her hands together, watching the people around them nervously.

"I've never… I've never had a drink… before." She mumbles shyly.

Rocket is so happy, he forgets to… oh… I dunno… react?

Seeing the raccoon stare at her with wide eyes, she shuffles her feet and spins around – starting to walk away, "Forget it, let's head to the –"

"No!" Rocket winces, realizing how loud (and desperate) that sounded. But she stops and looks at him… which is something at least.

Making up the four feet of space she had made between them, he continues in his normal, gruff tone, "You havn't _lived_ until you've had these urchins' drinks!" He grins at the smaller animal, confidence returning.

"I'll buy you yer first drink. How's that sound, princess?"

He keeps his bravado, but his heart skips in his furry chest when she returns a small, genuine smile up at him.

"Okay…"

Rocket is on cloud nine the entire way to the bar.

* * *

"Gamora, why are we leaving our companions behind? This is not a safe place." Drax inquires monotonously to Gamora, who's looking at various knives and pistols on display at one of the vendor stands.

"They'll be fine. Rocket's what Peter often calls a 'bad-ass,' I'm sure he won't allow himself or his new friend to come to harm."

"Who is this new raccoon anyways? I was not aware we were taking on more passengers?"

Gamora ignores Drax for a moment while she haggles with the dealer.

After she made her purchase, she motions for Drax to follow, "Under normal circumstances, no. But I think this is a special case… don't you agree?"

"Yes. It is quite a positive thing that our friend Rocket has found an equal."

"We are his equals too, Drax. But I know what you mean. Someone he can better relate to. Who knows, maybe they'll fall in love?" Gamora smiles to herself.

Drax gives her a look before stopping, spotting the aforementioned two making their way into one of the guardians' favorite bars on this side of the galaxy.

"It would appear they are attending the hourly drink specials at La-Noda's"

Spinning on her heels, Gamora catches two furry tails enter through the neon-lighted doorway. Smirking, she turns and walks away. Drax reaches out to stop her, "I would like to join in on the festivities as is our custom."

"We'll come back in an hour. I have a few other things I need to shop for first, and I would like your company."

Knowing that his green woman-friend couldn't care less if he accompanied her or not, he follows.

He wanted to talk with her about Star Lord anyhow. Their sexual tension and flirting were deeply unsettling him; and he things that Rocket and Groot would agree with him.


	22. Chapter 22

She was nervous upon entering the bar, but thankfully it wasn't _too_ terribly crowded at this time if the cycle – meaning it wasn't packed to the brim like a can of those terrain sardines she found Drax eating the other day.

Shyness starting to overcome her, she slips behind Rocket, following close. Renee desperately tries not to lose him in the crowd as she takes in the vicinity with wide, observant eyes… but of course it was inevitable.

"Aaah!"

_Thud._

"Ugh…" she pushes herself up from the floor and shakes her head roughly before shooting a venomous glare up at the asshole laughing. Standing up to her full height of two-feet nine inches, she dusts herself of – pointedly ignoring the drunken jabs and jokes made at her expense.

She was used to it.

But the ' _pet_ ' comment hurt a little… a _little._

Nothing to cry over, anyways – she's sure she will kick their asses in an alleyway sometime later.

Ready to just weave back into the throng of people to catch up with Rocket, she turns only to almost run into his orange-clad chest.

_"Shit… I hope he didn't hear that."_

Suddenly, she doesn't know what to do anymore.

She's _tired._

Looking up at him, she doesn't know what to say as she looks into his fierce eyes – lost.

* * *

"HAAAHAHAHAHAAA!"

The raucous of laughter isn't a particularly foreign sound in an establishment such as this, but the words succeeding the drunken merriment made his blood start to simmer.

" _What_ the fuck is _that_ thing?!"

"Hey, fluffy-butt…. Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Rocket turns to yell at the guy only to see that no one was paying any attention to him. Not even the beautiful Red was there. Confused, he looks around –

"Hey! Red-furry-freak thing!"

Hearing a small mass hit the dirty, tile floor, a rage trembles through his small body.

_"Oh,_ _**hell** _ _no."_

Teeth clench and snarl as sharp, dark eyes set on a target as he shoves his way through legs. He's greeted with the site of his smaller, more colorful counterpart pushing herself up from the floor and dusting her stomach off.

"Hahaha! Oh look! That bitch-thing has a _collar_!"

Sniggering could be heard at that. Rocket holds himself back, only to see what the other would do.

"Where's your master little pet-thing?"

"Hey! Look outside s'man… thur's prolly a wanted ad or sumthing."

He watches as she takes a deep breath…

Then backs away and does _nothing._ He lets her run into his chest, knowing her gaze was on the floor. With a twitch of her nose, she takes a small step back and looks up at him.

_"Oh fuck."_

A small, almost unnoticeable ripple goes through those deep eyes of hers and something in him just snapped.

Suddenly… he was torn between getting her out of there… or dealing with the idiots.

"Rocket."

Looking down at his chest, he sees two, thin, gloved claws splayed over it. Trailing his eyes up the hands to the bare, brown arms – all the way up to the cute, patterned face… his anger is forgotten.

"How about my drink… yes? I've never had a guy buy one for me before."

Watching her intently, he takes a moment before he responds. He knows what she's doing – she's attempting to distract him from a fight. Rocket sniffs, scowling at her as he sees her smirk victoriously.

"Fine." He barks out, gripping her hand and pulling her through the crowd, away from the idiot group.

_"Damn this stupid girl and her stupid, sexy tequila-voice. She's going to be the end of me, I swear."_

* * *

They only end up having a few drinks before leaving the bar. The mood for fun and games destroyed minutes upon entry. Rocket was trying to shake everything off, but he was beyond annoyed (maybe pissed) that she didn't seem to have an issue with the scene at the bar.

_"It's not like they insulted me… but why the fuck would she be so fucking_ _**calm** _ _?"_

A small hiccup sounds from behind him, and he is stopped by a firm grip on his uniform. Giggles escape her white – lined mouth, and her sapphires were curved up in drunken merriment.

"So wher – hic – are we goin' now?" another giggle escapes the smaller animal and Rocket tries to not let it fluster him. He had not consumed more than one drink, knowing he'd most likely make a proper ass out of himself if he got drunk in the lady's presence.

"We're gunna find Gamora and the tank." Rocket lets out gruffly, still in a mood.

"T-hic- Tank?" is the squeaky reply. He throws a perturbed glare over his shoulder at the cutely disheveled panda, "Yea. Nothin' can take that bastard out."

She smiles at him goofily, beaming – the last bit of anger he was holding over the situation vanishes at her smile.

"You are funny… ya' know? You're why I'd – hic- like 'ta stay."

Needing a second to gather himself, he slows his pace and loops the girl's arm with his.

"Aww… don't get all mushy on me princess." He mutters, trying to sound confident and flirtatious but ends up beaming with butterflies in his gut when she giggles and trips on air – almost crashing into the red pavement.

"Looks like someone had a little much."

"Gammy!"

They couldn't help it. Drax and Rocket snicker, while Gamora stares down at the red-panda, mortified at the nickname.

"Aw man… I wish Peter was 'ere to see this!"

The panda falls back over in a fit of giggles, needing to be corralled back to the _Milano_ by her newest friends.

* * *

_"Geez… what the fuck is taking them so long?"_ Peter grumbles to himself as he cleans up the mess in the space they dubbed the 'den.'

Entertaining himself with thoughts of trouble his friends might get up to with out him, he snickers when an image of an aghast Gamora nearly faints upon returning to a sparkling clean ship.

He can only imagine Drax's response. Screwing up his face, he mimics his tattooed friend, "I must be in slumber, for this is surely not real." Succumbing to another fit of giggles he starts to move on to the kitchen area, wiping down the counters and wiggling along to _The Jackson 5_.

So a few more hours go by without his notice… and he so does **_not_** scream like a little girl when Rocket knocks him forward, sending him face-first into the not-so-soft floor. He groans, hearing his raccoon-friend cackle in victory. Smirking, he quickly stands up and grabs the raccoon – hanging him up on his make-shift coat wrack.

"Oh, **_FUCK NO_** _I" Rocket growls indignantly._

"Man up, Rocket. You gotta take what 'ya dish out, buddy!"

"It is not meal time, and I would prefer if our smaller friend didn't dish it out."

Rocket and Peter just shoot him a look, Gamora rolling her eyes and leaving the boys.

"I'm going to check to see if our new occupant needs reviving from the coma you put her in, Rocket."

"I did not do that on purpose! Don't make it sound worse than it is you bitch!"

Drax glares at Rocket before heading to the hull of the ship to 'sharpen his knives.'

Everyone wonders if that's all he really _does_ besides drink Peter's coffee, clean out the fridge and rip out enemies spines from their bodies with his hands.

* * *

"Ugh… fuck you… asshole." She glares lazily at Rocket who's smirking down at her position on the floor – surrounded by pillows. Chuckling, he drops himself onto one of the more 'manly' looking pillows and grins at her, "Oh, common sugarplum! You'll be fine in no time."

"Yea yea…"

There was an awkward silence as she yawns cutely, stretching her arms and sitting up. Blinking a few times to get the fuzzies out, she returns her cerulean gaze to Rocket – whose eyes are locked on her collar.

She frowns.

Rocket raises his gaze to hers for a moment before fidgeting – nearly diving over a few pillows to grab at one of his new companion's ray-guns.

"You know, there are quite a few mods I can make ta this if ya want…" The archer watches the raccoon fidget some more, obviously meaning to say something else, and a giggle slips out without her permission; effectively ruffling her partner's fur.

"Waz so funny, Red?" he glares at her, his shoulders and muscles tense.

"N-nothing. I guess I'm just happy – despite the splintering head ache." She winces and massages her temples with her paws. Rocket had the decency to look sheepish.

"Yea, uh… I should'a not let you drink so much. An' I wanted to 'pologize for gettin' all cranky on ya back there…" She sees the raccoon hesitate, so she prompts him.

" _But…?"_

The red panda watches the internal battle Rocket showcases on his face in a series of twitches and nose-scrunches. His soft, dark eyes swift around the room as he figures out what to say.

Rocket was struggling. He felt the need to try and keep his calm and not blow up but…

He feels the anger start to return. Not necessarily at her – well, it _could_ have been at her for all he knew…

After letting out a frustrated growl, he decides 'to hell with it' – jump right in.

"What the _hell_ happened back there?"

He tries to school his face so that his stare wasn't so penetrating, but he feels he failed. She blinks at him, obviously surprised (and maybe confused) about his inquiry.

"What exactly do you mean?"

Rocket feels spiders crawling over his skin as he tries to continue. Wanting answers, but not wanting to cause a scene – because what a shame. He was really good at those.

"I mean those assholes at the bar. How could you just stand there and _take_ all of that?! You have guts that can rival mine. I may not have known you long, but you didn't seem like the kinda weak-willed chick who would take that shit from anyone!"

The words tumble out of his mouth and part of him cries out to _stop_. He finds himself holding his breath. Surprised both at himself and at the lack of response from the other. But just as he goes to try and calm himself, he panics at the stony look on her face. Her brightly colored eyes appeared to cloud over and their brilliance dull as the nano-seconds tick by.

He sees a defiance flash in her dull gaze. Clenching his small fists, he knows he's not going to like what she says next –

"And what 'shit' in particular are you talking about?"

Rocket feels like a vein has popped in his head.

Yea. _Now_ he's pissed.

"They called you a **_fucking PET_**!"

Rocket feels guilt and regret flood his body, but he knows he's got to get this out. He feels that this was a big deal – but maybe it was too soon.

But he wanted to _know dammit._

He instantly uncoils when she drops her gaze to the floor. Noticing she's frozen in place, he takes two whole seconds to drop his frustration and kneels before her.

"Hey… I'm… I'm sorry… that was… well… very dickish of me. I guess… I just… hate it whenever I'm treated like that. Because I know I'm more, even if every other idiot out there doesn't think so."

_"Oh fuck. I think I totally ruined this with my big-ass fucking mouth."_

"And… I just realize that as I'm saying this… you prolly jus' didn' wanna cause a scene… and the point of this whole episode here is quite… stupid."

Damn. How he felt like an idiot just now – but he continues to watch her intensely. Looking for a reaction… a twitch, a shout… anything at this point.

Rocket holds his breath when she looks up at him – eyes solemn, but a little brighter.

Softer.

His mind is racing as he realizes she's trying to decide whether or not to tell him something – and he finds himself begging her to trust him with his desperate eyes.

When she blinks and looks away from him sharply, he knows he's failed her test.

Deflated, he doesn't dare to move or break the silence between them.

"… Yea. It wouldn't have been wise to 'cause a scene.' Though I haven't found myself in a… liberating enough position to warrant one."

He starts when she turns her head back towards his, with a small, barely there, wry smile. "But I guess this time would have been a nice chance to practice."

Rocket watches her with bated breath as she slowly pushes herself off of the pillows and stands up. She pauses and fidgets with the thick, black collar around her slim neck; Rocket scrambles to his feet and takes a few steps towards her with the intent to say _something_ – but all of his cognitive processing and language skills are sucked out the airlock at what happens next:

Gracefully, the red panda turns to face him and then closes the distance. Lean red arms snake around his shoulders as she pulls the stunned-stupid raccoon to her in a soft embrace.

Electricity shoots throughout his entire body when he feels the other nuzzle the side of his face – a small breath hits his ears before the words do:

"Thank you for your concern." She pulls back and Rocket feels a slight panic rush through him before he meets her bright, sapphires.

His eyes are wide with wonder as he pays rapt attention to every miniscule detail of this moment – he wasn't going to miss a _thing._

She squeezes his toned shoulders before mustering up a small, friendly smile. "One day… I will tell you about me."

As she spoke again, Rocket finally was able to get a signal from his shell-shocked brain to his limbs as he awkwardly stumbles a half-step forward to gently grab her forearms as they slide off his shoulders when she takes a step away.

Now he was gently holding her small hands. As amazing as it felt to have her hands in his, he couldn't break his gaze away from hers until she drops her eyes to their joined appendages.

"I will tell you one thing though…"

He snaps his wide, chocolate, hazelnut eyes to her as she pulls her hands out of his gently before taking another step backwards and giving him the most adorable, shy smile he has ever witnessed.

"You can call me Renee."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

_"What the hell was that?!"_

Frazzled and embarrassed, Renee speed-walks through the narrow hallway in the _Milano_ until she reaches the tiny bathroom, nearly slamming the door behind her. Only after she smacks the button-lock on the door does she release a breath and wilt.

She revels in the silence for a minute before stripping. _"Thank the spirits or whatever for the fur. I feel so stupid."_ Growling quietly to herself, she turns on the faucet and waits for the temperature to rise.

She closes her eyes and drifts off into a different place and a different time as the water heats the small room.

* * *

"Did you tell her about the shower timer?"

Rocket ignores Peter as he heads to the fridge, grabbing a beer before climbing up to join Drax, Star Lord and Gamora at the table.

All at the table just stare at Rocket as he downs the bottle in one go.

"Uh… you okay buddy?"

Rocket slams the drink on the table and there is a silence before he looks incredulously at the group, "What's up with you lot? Stick up yer ass?"

Gamora scoffs and rolls her eyes, Drax looks at the raccoon perplexed and Peter just shakes his head.

"Nah. We do have a job though. Now that you're here we can discuss it."

"Shoot, Star Dork." Rocket replies nonchalant before reaching across the table to grab a biscuit.

Drax furrows his bald brow, "What is he to shoot? He's the one who wants no more 'holes decorating the ship.'" Gamora grabs Drax's attention and shakes her head, wordlessly telling him to forget it.

" _Anyways_ … what I was trying to say was this: We have a job. As in, a job for the _Guardians_."

That seemed to silence the room for a moment. Peter's demeanor sobered, and Rocket could tell he was very serious about this; not that he's normally _not_ serious… it's just he was more serious this time. At least right now…

"Apparently there are some rouge beasts on the loose on Keltar South –"

"Whoa whoa whoa… hang on a sec;"

Peter looked annoyed at being interrupted, but let Rocket continue nonetheless, "I'm kinda very _exiled_ from that planet."

Now Peter smirks, "Yea, you made a pass at a Chief's daughter –"

"How was _I_ supposed to know it was considered in appropriate to shake hands there?!"

Gamora sighs and rolls her eyes as Peter and Drax snicker, the 'meeting' veering off the tracks.

As usual.

"We know, Rocket. It's already been cleared for you to land with us –"

"But as soon as the mission is over dude, you gotta scram."

"Agh! _Fine!_ So…" Rocket's furry face splits in two with a manic grin, "We get ta shoot up some beasties." He cracks his small knuckles and chuckles low in his throat.

"That'll be fun…"

His malicious delight at the news wasn't reciprocated, however. Gamora's face remained stony, Drax was looking a bit restless with determination and Peter was struggling to add some pertinent information.

"Yea, there's one more thing though…"

"That look tells me it's not good." Rocket deadpans.

"We've been asked to _not_ destroy or harm the beasts… but to herd them back to their sanctions."

Rocket groans dramatically and sprawls out in his seat.

"Dammit. Why do 'ya gotta suck the fun outta everything!"

* * *

A lithe, female figure wearing a stark-white lab coat is bent over a worktable expertly adjusting the magnification for the microscope.

Softly, there is a melodic hum that echoes throughout the cold, sterile environment, causing the small, foreign beast in the kennel to stir from its nap.

As the melody ends, the lab worker rises and clicks off the scope's light with a heavy sigh.

Heels click on the marble tile, the sound bouncing off the walls as the girl disposes of her blue gloves. Just as the lid to the rubbish bin closes, the large double doors to the side hiss open as the air pressure changes.

"Ah. How's the experiment coming? I trust everything is in order?"

A frighteningly tall, leathery Shi'ar glides confidently into the room. The animal in the kennel on the table jerks and with a squeak falls silent as it draws itself to the furthest corner of it's prison.

"Miss Roulin, what have I told you about wearing caps in the lab?" a wizened voice drawls in a condescending tone. The girl only reaches back to tighten the cover, "It's more sanitary to cover ones' head…sir."

There's a low chuckle as the large, Shi'ar gracefully pulls on gloves and then moves to fill a syringe, and "Impertinence is not going to help you when performance reviews come around."

The peach-skinned humanoid carefully draws in a breath, sharp blue eyes never leaving her boss as he makes his way around the lab, "I still do not quite understand what you intend with these experiments, Doctor."

The Shi'ar doctor smirks, his leathery skin stretching across his face. He shakes his head fondly at his assistant, ruffling the greying feathers on his head.

"You were the one, long ago who said that science was 'so cool.'" He turns carefully to face his protégé before he continues with a smile, "Wouldn't it be fun to see just how _similar_ we are to other species? History, my girl, isn't just found in books and stories."

She only nods in response, looking away only when the doctor turns his back. Carefully eyeing the small, red lump of murmuring fur she continues, "That doesn't explain the weapons-testing then. I thought your kind were done?"

The doctor grunts, reaching into his pocket for his eyeglasses that he places on his beak-like nose before answering, "That's for the monetary gain, though I won't lie – the advancements we have come across here are remarkable. Partially in thanks to you."

He shoots a wicked grin over his shoulder at his assistant whose face seems to struggle between pride and petulance, "Well… that _is_ what this lab was meant for, and it's what I was _hired_ for."

"Yes, yes, yes, but you remember you are my assistant. Over on Planet X they have come up with pretty interesting advancements as far as _developing_ weapon experts – I merely want to join in on the fun."

The girl shifts her weight to her other foot, observant eyes locking onto the creatures' cage, "Right."

There's a heavy silence for the next few minutes as both doctor and assistant begin to examine the samples.

They are ignored by the bustling of scientists who began to leave the facility for the night, and as barks of laughter get cut off by a slamming steel door, the Shi'ar scientist stills in his ministrations.

He seems lost in thought as the small red creature stares at him carefully, paying no mind to the assistant as she clears up and downloads the data before looking up.

"Doctor…"

Startled from his inner thoughts, he turns to acknowledge his assistant. Nodding his head, they move together down the hall and through a second set of doors and leaving behind the large lab; now empty.

Silence follows them as strides become more purposeful as they approach the restricted area. The scientist scans his print before ushering her into the space. As the door shuts behind them, a loud _clang_ sounding as they are locked tight, they head towards the main monitor.

"How far have we come, doctor?"

"It won't be long now…"

Suddenly, an alarm blares throughout the facility as the emergency shower system activates –

* * *

Gasping, Renee falls out of the shower stall, shivering. Desperately looking for a towel, she wraps herself up in a clean one. Once partially dry, she scowls at the showerhead as she marches over to shut off the offending device.

Except before she even touches it, the water stops running on its own. She blinks at it, perplexed before panic starts to consume her chest.

_"Did I just use all of the fucking water?! They'll_ _**kill** _ _me!"_

Hastily, she pulls on a fresh pair of clothing until she realizes that there's a timer-device installed next to the shower.

She groans and drags a small, delicate hand down her face in frustration.

A fucking timer.

Taking a moment to breathe, the archer enjoys the warmth of the enclosed space, and resolves to soak it back into her shocked system. Laughter drifts in through the cracks of the door; one particular tone catches her attention and it's not even a minute until she's ruffling up her fur again.

 _"This is too much for my poor heart to handle."_ She clutches at her chest as she attempts to quell her nerves.

Less than an hour ago, she had promised to tell her 'story' to the other; in time. Since parting, she's wondering if those words were even true – they _did_ come out unhindered.

Renee was quite surprised by herself, being that fluid and open who is, with all intents and purposes, a complete stranger.

_"Not to mention quite a strange, stranger."_

Not wanting to emerge from the space yet, she drops herself to sit on the fluffy green carpet on the tiled floor with a sigh. Rubbing at her face tiredly, she recalls her earlier memories –

She looks down at the palms of her, now bare, hands:

A faint yellow glow hums behind the small orbs in her palms.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"Remind me again why we _aren't_ killing these fucking monsters?!"

Rocket roars as they hastily retreat from a horde of giant, grimy, four-eyed, purple creatures –

That smelled very, _very_ badly.

"My thought exactly. I'd rather rip out their spines."

"If you could get the chance! I won't tattle! – DIVE!"

Peter, Drax and Rocket simultaneously leap over debris and duck under nearby bushes to avoid the stampede. As the red dust begins to settle, and the heavy, clomping foot-falls from the eight-legged beasts start to fade, the two boys hear a light thud above them.

"Good to see you weren't squashed. I'm assuming it's safe to say you two haven't caught any yet?"

Rocket growls in frustration and sits up, shaking a tiny, black fist at the girls above them.

"Like you bitches are doing any better!" Peter and Drax groan beside him and start to stand.

"Actually, we've corralled three." Gamora couldn't hold her usual deadpan expression; she was a bit too smug that she now had another edge against her male companions.

"So far, boys – girls are winning."

"Bullshit! You would be _losing_ if there were –"

"Killing allowed, we _know_. But that's too easy – this takes _skill_." Rene shoots back haughtily down at her companion, twitching her dark, auburn tail flippantly.

A thunderous roar shakes the blue-tinted leaves in the tree, and disturbs the yellow grass below the boys' feet as the group waits for the long-winded howl to fade.

Rocket scrunches his nose up as he glares petulantly up at the small, red panda who only smirks haughtily back down at him, a mischievous twinkle in her sapphire eyes.

Gamora clucks her tongue and winks down at Peter and Drax before disturbing the silence, "That's our cue." She gestures with her head for her new, furry friend to follow as she leaps into another tree – making her way towards the ridiculously purple, feral creatures.

Rene's smirk splits into a cocky grin.

Rocket just _knew_ his little panda was going to say something –

"Try not to become a doormat, Rocky."

He gapes as his 'friends' giggle (in a manly way of course!) as she shoots him a cute wink before disappearing.

_"Well shit."_

Rocket sighs, only because he has no idea what to say. The raccoon doesn't even bother ranting at his dumbass friends, merely shoving his buddy in the leg upon passing, managing nothing more than just a low growl before demanding the 'idiots' follow him.

Again, Rocket's glad for his fur. He was feeling a bit too warm – whether out of anger, frustration or embarrassment (perhaps a little bit of all) he will probably never know.

* * *

Groot whines and grunts as he tries to move within the confines of his blue pot.

"Grrrroooot!"

A scowl pulls his wooden face down as he struggles to maneuver his roots… er… legs?

He wasn't even sure if they were legs yet.

Out of frustration, mini-Groot goes to punch the nearby wall in anger and nearly tips over. Caught by surprise at first, the poor plant is speechless. Then a triumphant smirk splits across his adolescent face as he begins to forcibly rock back and forth, in hops to tip himself over (and hopefully out) of the confounded flower pot; he really needed Rocket to get him a tree-pot…

But he was hoping he'd get his roots to go back into legs here soon. These pots were annoying, and he made the mistake of crawling along the floor before with tens of exposed, tiny roots, only to tangle his comrades in his uncontrollable network of foliage.

Even though he was _trying_ to tip himself over, the growing sprout let out a yelp of surprise as his pot suddenly became horizontal –

And his face met the steel-tiled floor.

Groaning, Groot goes to push himself up, only to growl and scowl in frustration that he didn't succeed in _breaking_ the damn thing. Now the floor was dirty, and Gamora was sure to chastise him for it.

Laying there for a moment, he tries something new – be wiggles himself gently, hoping to loosen the dirt – turned mud to set himself free.

Groot huffs and flops himself onto his back on the cool, tiled floor.

"Grrrooooot…"

Exhausted by his earlier endeavors, Groot decides a nap is in order.

It's not like he could do much else anyways.

* * *

"Shit!"

_BOOM._

Dual red and green blurs fly by before resounding screeches and howls of pain and anger rock the shaky ground beneath them on the rock-ledge.

A tiny, auburn ball of fury drops herself from the half-fallen tree above. "Rocket! What the fuck was that for! You're not supposed to _kill_ them you bastard!"

Adjusting himself after the shock of the blast, Peter pipes in, ripping off his helmet device. "Dude! You'll get arrested by them, _again!_ And I am _not_ wasting money bailing your sorry ass out! _"_

"What the fuck does he mean _again_ , Rocket?!"

Said trouble-maker stifles his giggles (barely) as he strides confidently towards his assembling friends, a shit-eating grin stuck on his face. Coming face to face with his red counter-part, he winks cheekily before heaving his heavy weapon over his shoulders, "You know that was awesome, don't lie"

Speechless, the archer just puffs out her cheeks before she sighs and turns away from the raccoon, folding her arms across her fluffy chest.

"Fine. But only a little…" she grumbles in defeat as Rocket preens himself in triumph.

Drax and Peter were muttering about the blast, both cursing their furry-arse friend and damning him for sending them on their asses in this purple, reddish, weird-smelling dirt. A rustling comes from nearby and soon Gamora is thrown into the group.

Literally thrown.

She lands with a painful thud, stunning everyone in their party as she army crawls a few inches before pushing herself to her shaky, leather-clad legs.

Just then, the thick trees and foliage of the strange planet were torn out of view, revealing four very pissed off crazies.

Peter has the audacity to snort at the look on Gamora's face before a loud roar seriously jostles his precious eardrums.

"Shit!"

The group starts to disperse, Rocket struggles to regain his footing as the loose earth shakes beneath him.

"Let's get the fuck outta here!"

"Yea, screw this! RUN!"

In very manly ways, the men screech and scamper as they try to keep up with the women who are a good ten paces ahead of them already. At Rockets (manly) screech for help as one of the disgusting things makes a close grab at his ringed tail, Renee slows as she turns around, carefully aiming cryo-arrows at the mountainous, purple things.

"Shit!" Rocket gruffs after he makes a running leap, throwing himself bodily across the waterless ravine. Renee is there as he lands, dragging him to his wobbly feet and gently urging him to _move._

"Next time freeze mah fucking tail off why don't ya?!"

"It was either that or become earth-play-doh; which would you have preferred, smartass?!" Renee snips back at her companion with a scowl as she drags the poor raccoon through prickly foliage in the direction of their craft vehicle.

"Slow down, princess! Mah foot!"

Growling, Renee shoves Rocket in front of her towards Drax and Peter, " _Slow_ _ **down**_ _?!_ – the fuck is _wrong_ with you?!"

"It fuckin' hurts!"

"Well I ain't carrying you, ya big crybaby! So _move!"_ the archer screeches as a tall tree-like thing cracks before it starts to fall towards the group.

"Timbeeerrr!" Peter yells out, laughing as it just misses his woodland-creature friends.

"What is a 'timber'?"

"Is that _really_ important right now?!"

"You are all idiots! Why the hell did I agree to help you guys?!"

Rocket snickers as he pulls Renee towards him, saving her from tripping into a shallow pit, "You wouldn't have it any other way, princess!"

The archer looks up at Rocket's grinning face and her stomach does an obnoxious, distracting flip-flop before she's high-tailing it with her new companions towards the vehicles: their only chance at refuge.

Once the group piles into the cruiser and speeds off, they silently agree to avoid the natives and just ditch the planet and its crazy, four-eyed freakish creatures.


	25. Chapter 25

"It's been fucking _months_ and still _NOTHING!"_

A large metallic table is flipped, sending bargaining chips, credits and lagers crashing to the floor along with Jack's feral, roaring voice.

Silence fills the room and the rank, stale air is thick enough to cut with a knife. At the moment, that knife was a literal knife which was being not-so-gently jammed into the wall beside a poor recruit's green-helmeted head.

The furious merc-leader spins around and pins a group with his venomous glare.

"YOU!"

The four attempt not to flinch, but some fail miserably.

"I want ANSWERS, and I want them TONIGHT!"

A flurry of 'yes captain's' and 'yes sirs' was half-heartedly thrown over shoulders as the small squad funnels out of the oppressing den in a flurry.

"That Berk will tell me what the fuck is going on with this scheme of his…" Jack circles the room, venting to his drunken and terror-stricken audience. "No more playing his fucking games! I wanna know what the _fuck_ we are supposed to be _doing!_ " Jack growls lowly again, before yanking a half-full mug of something from one of his top men's sloppy grasp.

"So far, we have raided the top three black-market sellers in the eastern district, monitored all shops in the area, and even tracked a freighter 200 light-years into the middle of bum-fuck space places, only to find that it was carrying _nothing_ but poorly built mech units." Simone 'helpfully' supplies, cracking her knuckles as she walks forward, leaning against the nearest post.

"Thanks for the update _Simone_. I had no _fucking idea_ of what we have done the past few months." Jack growls out, a few of the braver men chuckle at the exchange, but Simone just rolls her eyes before continuing.

"What I am _trying_ to point out _Captain_ , is it appears that none of these jobs are related to each other."

"Again, no shit Sim." A co-worker guffaws, receiving a rumble of mocking, manly giggles.

"Get to your _point_ Simone…" Jack grounds out, taking another swig of his (well, of someone's) drink, before slamming it down.

"With all the respect in the universe, Jack… I think Berk is playing you."

There is a silence that drifts through the room.

Now she has their attention, and more specifically, Jack's.

"Every new-hire and freelancer out. Now."

In seconds the room is left with a roughly assembled team of sixteen.

"Repeat, Simone."

"Gladly," Simone strides across the room, closer to Jack, crossing her arms guardedly before she continues, "All of the jobs and the raids he hired us for during the first month seemed to be connected. Since the week-long siege on the Coriphius Tower, we haven't really had any legitimate 'jobs' – "

"Yea, they all seem more like bitch-men works, boss." A straggly bearded brunette adds in, earning himself a sharp glare from their "number one bitch."

" _Yes…_ thank you _Cratz_." She turns back to Jack, who is still waiting for Simone, having blatantly ignored the drunken insert, "Anyways, he's right. These are more like _errands_. Some of these tasks he could've paid a smaller agency or team to do it if needed… but Berk has the money and people to do most of these things himself…"

"So what you are saying is he's been…?"

"Distracting us."

"But what would be the benefit of that? Or is he just toying with us? Seeing how long we will take these bitchy jobs until we riot or something? That's just stupid."

"Wouldn't think it past many of those upper-men to do something like that for fun – but that's not Berk's style."

"We are _mercs_. A _fight team_ , we are no threat to anything he may want to accomplish – "

"Unless we were hired by a competitor, but in all contracts it's listed that we have no 'preference' and take no 'sides.'"

"Doesn't mean it can't happen."

"It's still not Berk's _style_. Have you ever _met_ the bastard? My sister used to work for him. He's a giant, creepy but sophisticated bugger. He wouldn't give two shits about any of this."

Simone raises her voice in an attempt to re-focus the conversation. "So the question is –"

"What's his angle."

Silence blankets the room again.

"… I wonder…"

Everyone in the room looks towards one of their youngest members, John, "I wonder if it's not to way-lay us from being aware of what's going on around us."

The room just looks at him, the poor teen sweats as he attempts to re-gather himself, which is already difficult a job enough being the smallest – but being pinned by every roughian's stare in the seemingly-cramped room just added to the pressure.

"W-what I mean is… we've been so busy with this onslaught of tasks, errands and grunt work that we haven't really had the time this past month, until today, to all get together or to even _think_ about anything other than our work."

"So… it _could_ very well be meant as a distraction." A member adds.

"Yes, exactly." John grins triumphantly, proud to be making a contribution, "but what I can't figure out yet, is from what exactly…"

There is a hushed murmur throughout, everyone collaborating on what could have been missed. Jack furrows his brows as he stares at the filthy floor.

"Sir," a buff, emerald Zehoberi woman steps out from behind her comrades, urgency in her voice. "This may or may not be connected, but… our little pet is still with him… right?"

The leader gives her a 'no shit' glower, "Yes. We have been receiving checks each week. It's work is probably just as useless as ours is,"

The woman, Saiah, approaches Jack with confidence and urgency in her steps, a determination set on her thick brow. "Trono, Bard and I have attempted to track her UPS the other day, with no luck."

Jack's entire form goes rigid. Everyone holds his or her breath as the absence of their pet starts to sink in. It is at this moment that the rest of the group knows to get the fuck _out_ , before one of them is permanently pinned to the wall.

He's so pissed, Jack sees nothing but red as he snarls, " _What…?"_

It is at this moment that the rest of the group knows to get the fuck _out_ , before one of them is permanently pinned to the wall.

Bravely, Trono, one of the lieutenants, takes over for Saiah while she bites her tongue, undoubtedly as pissed off as he himself is.

"We're unsure how long the link has been disabled. It has ne'er failed us befo,' Keptin. Saiah, Bar' an' myself think the entire sit'ation is suspect." Trono rolls forward on his large, clawed feet, his rough, leathery hands clasped firmly behind his back as he reports dutifully.

Bard grunts as he nods in agreement, toying with the large toothpick hanging from his lips. "Boss, I don' know what to think of this guy… but regardless of how _annoying_ that lil' bitch can get, it's an asset."

"Troublesome is more like it," Saiah mumbles in distaste.

The three pause, allowing their leader to process. After knowing him for almost a decade, they still aren't quite sure how he is likely to react to given situations.

They can only hope for the best, and pray that they won't end up like their group member Susilli after the "Garganton Incident" three years back.

Currently, Jack was about as red as his clothing and his hair. Breathing hard through his nostrils like an earthen bull, attempting to calm himself in order to collect his thoughts.

Suddenly, the tension in his shoulders dissipates as he moves across the room to his worktable cluttered with devices. His three lieutenants hold their ground as they wait with bated breaths.

"Well then…"

Jack turns and gives them a devilish grin.

"Looks like we will need to call on our little friend, surely _he_ could help us out…"

Saiah smirks with Jack as Trono nods diligently and Bard lets out a heavy sigh.

"Damn… feel bad for that kid." He mutters, but is paid no attention to as Jack turns and leaves the room.

Minutes later, the room is plunged into darkness. Left empty, dirty and stale. Unbeknownst to the soulless room, a small, discrete red light is lit – blinking at the rhythm of a human heartbeat under the flipped-over metallic table as it processes all audio that had been recorded.

* * *

On the other side of the crime-ridden city, seated in his large, stuffed chair, Berk allows a small grin to set on his face.

"Good work, boy. Seems letting your little friend go free was the right choice after all."

"That is because now they will assume this was your intent, instead of whatever you are _really_ doing, right?"

A sharp grin finally splits his gray face in half, "Yes, my boy. You are quite the smart one, aren't you?" he pats the kid's mussy blonde locks before standing to move away.

"Now you must think of another plan… they will be after you shortly."

Tan allows himself a prideful grin before reaching to grab his hand-made spying gadget off his boss's large, oak desk, "I think I have one already, sir."


	26. Chapter 26

Peter trudges out of the room, through the ship and proceeds to raid the kitchen's fridge, guilt-ridden after having an upsetting conversation with his best friend.

"You can be an asshole, you know that?"

"Not now Gamora, I really don't want to talk anymore tonight."

"Then maybe you should've decided that before you pissed off Rocket."

Peter knocks back his head, and takes a long, hard gulp of his precious leftover orange juice. Choking it down, he mumbles, "Whatever."

Gamora allows her captain some silence, thinking over the current situation herself.

"I don't think we should talk about this anymore tonight."

"No shit."

She rolls her eyes at the sandy blonde, turning to leave him with his guilty snacking binge. But she can't resist one last, small piece of advice.

"I know you are worried, but just try to keep it to yourself in the meantime."

Peter drags a hand down his face and lets out an exhausted sigh, "I think part of it is he knows that's most likely to happen too."

"Then don't try to confirm it for him." She throws a glare over her shoulder, a little surprised to see the sour look on her captain's face. Her gaze softens only after he turns his back to her to pull out some cheesy-crisps from the cupboard.

Her heeled boots click on the cheap, linoleum flooring as she turns away again.

"Maybe she'll prove us wrong."

There's a quiet that floats over the section of the ship. Lights in the kitchen go out as the leader of The Guardians leaves for the night. Emergency lights go on, and a soft glow and quiet hum falls.

Renee finally allows herself to slide down the wall to hug her brown, furry legs to her chest. Her ears flatten to the side as she glares with watery eyes into the emptiness of the ship.

* * *

"Okay tough-guy. Make me proud and drag these buffoons all over Knowhere." The kid snickers mischievously as he struggles to complete the harness currently strangling the viciously thrashing reptile.

The large, greyish-blue boss folds his large arms across his cloaked chest to send a mock-glare down at his scruffy, young charge. "I won't give you another one, so be careful. Aliens pay good money for those."

"Yea, then lose it." He grumbles childishly under his breath, while the 'oh-so-scary' boss-man tries to hold back a snicker.

"YES!" Tan shouts triumphantly, holding the squirming and twisting reptile. "Now I need to send him off before 'Jack the Ass' gets too suspicious of Miss Archer."

"Yeees," Berk drawls, "Best you do this tonight, boy. There are no more distractions I need from them, and the job is almost complete – so you best be on your way. From what my internal contact gathers, they are getting restless already."

Humming to himself, Tan shoves the overgrown lizard into a shoulder bag he had stashed away before he slides his lithe body into the ducts. Taking him to the lower floor and giving his lizard access to roam the dysfunctional streets of the city.

Keeping Miss Archer safe had become his top priority; not to mention the attention and approval he was getting from his previously stoic, cruel and resigned employer. Tan always thought he'd live the majority of his life in fear, doing nothing other than running errands for intimidating entrepreneurs and high-class criminal overlords.

Since meeting the talking animal, the past three weeks had been great. Receiving more food in the servant's quarters and most of all, being given a new job-title.

Sure he still did his errands, (he _was_ still the smallest and the fastest) but now he'd been given the new responsibility of being Berk's "personal assistant".

He wasn't stupid. He knew Berk didn't trust any of the nice ladies that were his previous assistants. For one, what he did for Miss Archer had put him on his bosses 'radar.' So he'd become more than 'that errand boy' and had become 'that clever errand boy' – so of course that means more work, but at least there were some perks to it.

Like his new shoes, for example.

Also this awesome lizard thing.

Finally out of the building, Tan rushes down an alleyway. His destination being the central sewers.

"If they want their 'asset' back, let's have them chase this lil' guy for a while." He mutters to himself as he pulls out the creature, wriggling between his small hands.

"Okay you bugger. There."

The second its' claws hit the pavement, the lithe creature sped towards the maze of tunnels – disappearing into the thick, disgusting sewage.

Tan couldn't help himself from grinning all the way back to Berks that afternoon.

* * *

Gamora was completely at a loss of what to do with her crew-mates. She knew she should stand behind Peter's concern; it _was_ entirely logical after all – despite the irony of that statement.

With a half-hearted smirk, she peels off her usual fighting attire and exchanges it for a tight, cotton blouse with soft, brown, linen shorts. Just as she's about to climb in to her covers, she hears the echoes of a soft, female voice muttering mild obscenities down the hall. She smiles for real, this time, the green Zehoberi woman slips into a pair of comfy flip-flops before following the small noises.

Upon approaching the cockpit of the ship, she hears a heavy sigh being heaved – too heavy and laden to be coming from such a small creature as the red archer.

Already knowing her presence was known, she slips into the co-pilot's chair and spins around to see her companion curled up on the padded, leather seat with her muzzle resting heavily atop her furry, brown knees.

Gamora stares at the other, unabashedly, taking in her demeanor. Catching the archer's sharp, glowing eyes for a brief moment before they slip away to stare out the window moodily.

"You overheard us."

Not a question. A statement.

Instead of answering verbally, the shinning eyes, like water, slide back to emerald woman's dark pools; her face relaxed, leaving the petulance and determination to not be bothered to melt into a somber, hurt expression. All anger and fight left those small, blue eyes and Gamora suddenly didn't know what to say anymore.

"He… Peter… he's only concerned for his friend. I don't know why he's being such a dick about it though;"

She takes a breath, draws it in slow, thinking over her next words carefully as she continues. "You know… it has been awhile…" The usually brave Zehoberi assassin was now scrambling for words, having been frozen by small, shimmering blue eyes lined with dread.

But she had to push, this was what was causing tension aboard the ship, and she wanted it to be gone.

"Did you have any sort of plan after stowing aboard the _Milano_?"

Rene rolled her small shoulders slightly, tilting her head to rest on her knees so she can look at Gamora comfortably. She carefully kept her gaze averted from the assassin, and stayed silent for several moments before her voice cracked the ice;

"No."

Bravery returning, just a bit, mind you, Rene looks up to gouge Gamora's reaction – she was expectant, but not impatient. She was willing to wait for the panda to continue.

Great.

"I… I was given an opportunity, a rare kindness, to be freed." She starts to twitch and fidget in her seat now – facing forward, towards the fathomless expanse of space and stares.

"Plans, a future… none of that has crossed my mind for a long time now." She murmurs, looking down now at her bare, clawed feet. "When you are shoved in a cage, not knowing when you'll be let out – _knowing_ you'll only be let out by the whim of another –"she looks up at Gamora now. Meeting her eyes, slightly wider now, she finishes with a tentative, melancholy smile that Gamora's heart isn't sure what to do with.

"You don't think about when things will get better. You can't."

At the she breaks eye contact again and her smile strains to a grimace, making an upsetting expression on her usually cute, appealing face.

Gamora has no words to offer; just her presence.

And it was a mutual understanding that it was more than enough as both women find their focus out on the stars before them.


	27. Chapter 27

He's in a great mood today. He got Peter to make him a large stack of earth pancakes, he bested his buddy Drax at cards and won some cash, Groot, his _best_ friend in the world was finally going to be able to walk and move around again – and lastly, the project he'd been working on for the cute, red raccoon girl was almost done.

Now all he needed was said girl to try it. Hopefully it worked. He'd like to think she'd be happy and smile – maybe she'd even give him a hug…. Or a kiss!

"What the hell are you so damn happy about?"

Even his friend (whom he's still so _not_ talking to, by the way) being rude didn't dim his stupidly happy grin. Nothing could kick him down today.

The only thing that could make today better was if they got an assignment, and got to go out and kick some serious ass.

But this pompous ass could work too.

"Nothin' I'm sharin' with you, Star-Dork."

Peter just snorts, dropping himself on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest, "Well, at least you spoke to me."

"I never stopped speaking to you, Star-Baby – just stopped acknowledging you when I know you are going to say shit that's none of your business."

Peter ground his teeth, but seeing Gamora in the doorway behind his small, raccoon friend made him hold his tongue.

It really wasn't his business. Just his obligation to a friend.

That argument worked fine in his head, no matter how much Gammy disagreed to it. He'd remain vigilant.

"Yea, yea… whatever."

Rocket's grin had faded to a confident, mouthy smirk and then dropped to a scowl, "Dude. Don't be an ass-hat."

His friend leaned forwards and dropped his head into his hands and dragged them down his face before meeting Rocket's eyes apologetically.

"Sorry, buddy. I know…" He sighs, overly dramatic as he flings himself back onto the beaten couch. "I just need something to _do._ Or _shoot_! Dammit, what I wouldn't give to not have such strong hero-obligations… stealing something would be nice right now. Just to cure boredom."

Rocket smirks as turns to Groot in the corner, wriggling impatiently.

"Yea, well… if y'are bored het your ass over here and help me with Groot."

Peter peeks at Rocket from under the arm thrown over his face and grins, feeling happy for the first time in weeks, and like he got his friend back.

He'd let just about anything slide now; it was getting harder and harder to hold on to his stubbornness, anyways.

It had been a really slow day.

She could hardly sleep the past two night-cycles, still stewing over thoughts she had stupidly brought back to the surface. Her life was different now, different than it was at first, before it got worse – though it wasn't where she would have seen herself 3 years ago before 'shit hit the proverbial fan,' it was much better than were she was at more recently.

What she couldn't decide on now that she had her freedom (more or less), was what to do with herself. Her life goals seemed to vanish, and she could hardly even recall having even _had_ any goals at all.

She's jolted from her moping contemplation pose by a frustrated roar and a crash.

Rocket.

Now some drawl, matter-of-fact miss-said comment followed by a mocking laugh at someone's size.

Drax.

Now twin, pained groans echo through the short distance from the common area to where she sat herself in the navigation seat.

Resigned grumbling from Rocket and Peter followed and the red panda had to snort in amusement.

* * *

It's been a typical day – everyone else on the ship was starting to get restless, too. She wasn't the only one out of sorts, she knew. Rocket had even stopped talking to her as much, though she didn't really know why, nor did she have the courage to find out.

She tried not to take anything too personally anymore. This past week has been hard on everyone.

There hadn't been any 'assignments' and the Guardians hadn't had any 'hero-duties' since she hopped aboard (per Peter); so there wasn't really much they could do but gripe, bitch and throw things at each other.

The only positive, or notable, thing that had happened this weekend was that Rocket had come into the closet (it's where she insisted on staying, that or the couch next to Groot) to wake her up for breakfast. She was pleasantly surprised (though if you asked her why she was so elated he paid her attention she wouldn't be able to say) because he'd been generally silent the beginning of the week after they had a chat following her bonding moment with Gamora.

She smiles softly as she hears Rocket trying to help get Groot out of his pot, and she thinks about her conversation with Gamora that night. Rene would like to hope she had made herself a true friend. She can't recall ever having a friend – if she really understood what a true friendship was like: she didn't think she could say.

It was refreshing that Gamora seemed to share some of her hesitations with things such as friends and family; from what the taller, lithe, green woman had revealed, she was taken away from a home and forced to become who she is today: forced in the care of someone who made her consider him her 'father'.

Gamora never out-right said it, but she's certain she was talking about Thanos.

Her tiny heart beats faster and faster when she thinks about that monstrous thug (and that was putting it lightly), she thought ruefully. That man had too much power and influence for his own good. She doesn't know what she'd ever do if anyone knew of the information she possessed about that brute and his prized infinity stones. He only needed certain ones; the world would be damned if the knowledge got out there were _lesser_ stones.

Everyone with an ounce of true evil in their heart would be corrupted by the concept and chaos could ensue.

She lifted a black, fingerless glove and peeked at her palm underneath – a metal sphere-shaped hole decorated the center. A light, yellow glow could be seen if she were to really squint and try to look inside the depth of her small palm.

Rene shivers, repulsed and creeped out at the knowledge that that hollow hole actually ran down the length of her each arm and met at the center of her body, right beneath her groomed, furry chest.

A panic attach rolls through her body as unwanted, suppressed memories assault her. Her heart beats too fast, it's starting to trip over itself.

She feels water build up in her eyes, and in the distance – the voice sounds so, so far away – someone's screaming her name.

No. Not her name.

When she closes her eyes to block out the memories. If she closes her eyes, maybe that horrible day would stop playing through her mind's eye.

Someone's touching her now. The grip is firm, but not hurtful. She can hardly feel it, though. She's surprised she could feel it at all. The memories – the nightmare she's been avoiding this week just jumped out from behind a blind corner.

_"This is stupid, this is stupid. It's a memory, it's happened. I'm not there. I'm not there. Stop, stop, stop, stop – "_

She knows she's going to pass out before her heart seems to stop. Gasping, her eyes fly open only to see nothing but starts before she blacks out.

* * *

"The FUCK?! RED?!... RENE!"

Panic. Pure and simple panic surged through his chest. His claw gripping dangerously onto her slim, red shoulder. Scrunching a bit of her tank top in his grasp.

He had come in to find her and bring her out to the living room to see Groot, who was now able to stand and wobble about on his recently-split trunk. But whatever joy or pride he had felt from the development was sucked out of him like a vacuum upon seeing his crush, alone. Panicking in a way he found far-too familiar for comfort.

She gasped, her panic expression meeting Rocket's frightened and worried face – one quick glance before her pretty little eyes rolled back told him she didn't see him, and was stuck in a memory; a horrible one at that.

He hears the clomping of boots and hurried jogs echo through the ship before his friends appear, all three trying to wedge their way to Rocket within the small space made for two.

Rocket cradles the unconscious panda in his arms, his brow furrowed and his lips drawn into a tight frown of disapproval.

Peter panics and shouts, wondering what happened, Gamora looks sad and at a loss. Drax is just plain confused, but looks prepared to punch out something…

Through all the rest of the racket and chaos as they try to decide who's going to take charge of the situation, Rocket just closes his eyes and runs his hands up and down the archer's back, muttering under his breath.

"Jesus… what happened to you….?"


End file.
